


Harry Potter and The Realistic Events of The Half-Blood Prince [Deluxe Edition]

by ReverendKilljoy, WaskeHD



Series: The Totally Realistic Series of Magical Events [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: "Immortal Beloved", Accidental kisses, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Ginny Weasley, Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Bikinis, Character Death, Conflicted emotion, Consensual Underage Sex, Consensual bondage, Disguised Identities, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, French cuisine, Fumbling toward ecstasy, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Horny Teenagers, LGBTQ Character, Malfoy is a bully, Malfoy is also a Rabbit, Memory Magic, Midwifery, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Molly Weasley Meddling, Nudity, Poorly Concealed Attraction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Self-Harm, Semantics, Snogging in the Cinema, St. Mungo's Healers (Harry Potter), Sunbathing, The Map Is Not the Territory, Torn Betwixt Two Witches, Unconstant Heart, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, breakfast sandwiches, double dates, expecto patronum, high fashion, jinxes, technomancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 99,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReverendKilljoy/pseuds/ReverendKilljoy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaskeHD/pseuds/WaskeHD
Summary: A revised and final edition of "Harry Potter and The Realistic Events of The Half-Blood Prince [Studio Cut]" with unauthorized content redacted and replaced, as well as other modifications, from the original manuscripts.Takes place before the events of "Harry Potter and the Realistic Events of the Final Horcrux."A fusion of original material by WaskeHD and ReverendKilljoy, edited and revised by Killjoy to address a number of concerns with the previous text.Will be slowly updated as time permits based on the revisions to the original texts.
Relationships: Former Amelia Bones/Sirius Black, Former Harry Potter/Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Susan Bones/Ginny Weasley
Series: The Totally Realistic Series of Magical Events [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662466
Comments: 26
Kudos: 20
Collections: Totally Realistic Universe





	1. Bloodstains

**Author's Note:**

> Rescued from early drafts and notes, and reconstructed as best as possible by the co-author.

**Chapter 1.** **Blood Stains**

Tonks hadn’t slept, but instead had wavered in a horrible space between the nightmare of what Harry had done, and the nightmares that threatened, should she fall asleep and wake to find him dead. She had, for the last five hours, listened to Harry’s shallow breath as she tried to keep him warm and let him know she was with him. His muscles were taut, and he was mumbling forlornly in his sleep. He might even have thrashed around if he had had the strength, but instead, he twitched and tugged against her embrace.

He had regained some colour, he was less pale, but the cold sheen of sweat on his body was cool and clammy against her own skin.

_Is he out of danger yet?_

She didn’t dare move before he woke by himself. She was exhausted, she hadn’t slept nearly enough for her to feel good in her own body. She pressed her forehead to the nape of his neck.

_Please, please be alright, I don’t know what I would do. What could any of us do?_

She heard the sound of the fireplace flaming up.

“Tonks!” a familiar voice sounded angrily outside the door.

“Boss?!” Tonks shouted, fighting her own fatigue and confusion, waking Harry next to her.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Harry’s hoarse voice sounded thinly from within the blankets.

Tonks flung away the blankets covering them. She didn’t have time to dwell on Harry’s body as he shivered from the cold air. Tonks scrambled to cover Harry, nearly forgetting her own nakedness.

“Open this door _right now_ , or I am going to blast it down!” Amelia’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Just a second!” Tonks cried out, struggling to make herself think, to make herself act. She rushed towards her nearest clothes, but Amelia was having none of it.

_Bang!_

The door-handle blew off the door and a very pregnant, very angry Amelia Bones stood silhouetted in the doorway, taking in the naked torso of Harry, half-covered on the bed, the young metamorphmagus, unsuccessfully trying to cover herself, clinging to an old t-shirt.

“Tonks? What have you done?” Amelia whispered with horror.

“No! _No_ it’s not what it looks like!” Tonks felt herself backed against the wall, and her legs went out from under her. She slid down, crumbling into herself on the floor, covering her body with her legs as she pulled her knees up under her chin.

“How is it _not_ what it looks like?” Amelia asked disbelievingly, looking from Tonks to Harry and back again.

“I don’t know,” Harry said softly, “I was in the tub, Tonks took care of me. There was dust, and blood…” He looked down, with detached horror, at his wrists. A flood of images and disjointed snippets of Leo’s calm, sad voice jumbled together his mind.

“ _I’m sorry, Harry. I can make it stop… I can protect us… until the end. I’ve got you… Everything will be okay…"_

 _Leo! What have we done?_ Harry called into his own mind, but there was no response. _Leo, where are you?_

There was no response, not even the sullen presence refusing to answer which Harry had sometimes felt. Leo was gone.

No trace remained, as if Leo never had existed in the first place. Harry felt panic tugging at him, and looked from Tonks to Amelia, wide-eyed. Leo had tried to take their own life and now he wasn’t even there to explain himself.

“I think I did something terrible,” Harry murmured, feeling around in his mind for Leo as a tongue would probe reflexively for a missing tooth, refusing to accept the void.

“There’s blood on the floor and the tub, the door is destroyed… what exactly has been going on?” Amelia wavered, and her hand reached out for the doorframe to steady herself.

Harry became agitated as he searched for words to explain, but was rescued by a small, sad voice from Tonks.

“I found Harry in the tub. There was so much blood…” She was crying. “Cursed wounds—he wouldn’t stop bleeding—so much blood. So much, no matter what I did.”

Amelia looked at Harry with dawning pity and regret. “You absolute idiot.”

She moved towards the bed, gracelessly, to where he was struggling to sit up against the headboard. The blankets had fallen to his waist, enough to show his nakedness but not so far as to embarrass them both.

Amelia was looking him over critically. The boy was pale, with large bruises covering his chest and sides. His face a mosaic of scratches and tiny cuts, and he peered at her through glasses shattered on one side. She dug into the bag she was carrying and pulled out a small bottle. She handed it to Harry and took his glasses off his face as he blinked owlishly at the dark red potion in his hands.

“Drink it,” she commanded, waving her wand over his glasses. “ _Occulus_ _Reparo!_ ”

Harry uncorked the potion and emptied it into his mouth. He coughed.

“Can’t they make any of them taste better?” he groaned as he dropped the vial down on the bed.

“If they weren’t so bitter, we wouldn’t learn anything,” Amelia said with a hint of amusement. “Why, Harry?”

“I… it all hurt so much,” Harry said. “I just wanted it to… to stop.”

Amelia raised a brow but seemed to accept the explanation. She turned her head towards Tonks.

“Tonks, are you going to just sit there? Hecuba’s icy tits, girl, put some clothes on.” Amelia frowned.

Tonks gathered herself and slid the shirt she was holding over her head. She stood and groggily reached towards her chest of drawers and grabbed a pair of cotton undershorts.

Harry had looked away, but not before getting an eyeful of Tonks's very naked behind. Even in his current state, he felt very strange seeing Tonks like this, vulnerable but also clearly an adult.

Amelia followed all of this with a critical eye. _This is not the time for any of this,_ she thought.

“Tonks, I’ve brought food. It looks as if we three need to sit down and have a talk. I still need you to explain why you thought it wasn’t a good idea to bring him directly to St. Mungo’s,” Amelia said brusquely. “And bring him a set of clothes, he seems well enough to dress without our help.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tonks hurried out of the room.

“I heard about the Department of Mysteries,” Amelia said as Tonks returned to the room with a set of clothes. “I’ll need to hear your report of what happened.:

Tonks gently handed Harry his clothes, flinching away from his touch as if she might be burned. She and Amelia excused themselves to the kitchen.

Harry was regaining his senses, but he pulled back from the thought of recounting everything that had happened. Sirius, his friends, Hermione. Hermione…

He ran his hand across the pile of clothes. His sense of touch was working, he could feel the soft cotton of the shirt, the rough denim of the jeans, yet everything seemed miles away, detached in a way from his senses as well.

“Don’t keep a pregnant lady waiting, Potter,” Amelia’s voice pierced his malaise.

Harry quickly pulled on boxers, jeans, and a t-shirt. He walked to the doorway, looking at the wreck of the bathroom. Amelia hadn’t repaired the door, and he stopped at the huge stains of blood and water. It looked like a crime scene: blood was splashed over the sides of the tub, there were bloody trails on the tiles on the floor mixed with grime and dust. There was the hospital gown Tonks had worn from St. Mungo’s lying on the floor soaked still with water and blood. His stomach heaved.

 _Leo, why?_ He asked, but no answer would come.

He had to accept he was alone. Leo was gone. His fall back, his final line of defence. He had never felt more alone in his own mind as he did right now.

Harry dragged his bruised body through the hallway and into the kitchen. Amelia and Tonks were sitting, each with a mug of her own, and there was a third mug on the table waiting for him.

Harry sat down. Amelia waved her wand and food flew out of bags and landed on plates from the cupboards and arranged itself on the table.

Harry stared dully at his plate.

“Eat,” Amelia said, “you need the energy, and you look like shit.”

Harry picked up a banana, but he didn’t peel it. He just put it down next to his mug of tea.

“Fine, suit yourself,” Amelia huffed, “Look, I was there when Sirius got the message from the Order. We both knew what could happen to him. He knew what he was doing, Harry.”

Harry hadn’t expected Amelia to just go straight to the issue, he felt his stomach heave again.

“If I hadn’t been taken down…” Tonks chided herself, muttering angrily into her mug of tea.

“ _It is not your fault, either of you_ ,” Amelia said firmly as she reached out to grab Tonks's hand. “We are at war, and people die. Sirius… My brother and Susan’s mother… Loss is a part of this.”

Amelia didn’t even move to wipe away her tears as she held Tonks's hands while reaching out to Harry.

“I…” Harry began, but he trailed off. What words could explain? Sirius was dead. Hermione was…

Amelia turned to him, looking very much the stern mother figure. She was afraid that this wasn’t the best way to handle the trauma and shock Harry was going through, but she was an Auror by training, not a healer. When she saw a problem, she wanted to attack it.

“I can’t imagine what was going on through your mind but look at Tonks. She is still shaken, and that is not because of her injuries or Sirius. It is because of you.” Amelia pointed out. “You both should be in the bloody hospital.”

“I… if it wasn’t for me…” Harry thought he was crying, but his body had no tears left to give at last. He looked down miserably into his mug.

“I know. You lost a father and a girlfriend in the same night,” Amelia’s voice was gruff. “But I’m here. I am here. You can still call me Auntie. You can even— Well, I hope that you know you’re as much a son of mine as you were of Sirius.”

Harry looked up, confused. He looked at her ponderous baby bump.

“Yes, Sirius and I have three children, not one. We have this little one here, and you and Susan. You are all our children and I will be damned before I let a stupid child of mine think he’s alone in this world. Susan and I, this little kicker in here, Tonks, we are all your family, Harry.”

Tonks looked up from her mug of tea, and quickly lowered her eyes, unreadable emotion washing over her face. Harry also felt a complex mix of emotions welling up in him. He opened up his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words would come. Instead he reached out and hung his arms around his Aunt. He was tentative, cautious of her belly, but Amelia didn’t seem to care.

“Don’t be such a worrywart,” she said briskly to him.

Harry collapsed into the hug. He hadn’t realized how much he had been missing being held since Amelia had interrupted his sleep with Tonks. Amelia finally let him go and he reluctantly released his hold around her.

“I don’t know if Sirius managed to tell you,” Amelia said after a moment, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “The last thing… What he said before he left was ‘I need to go save our stupid son. I’ll bring him home.’ I loved that confident, cocky bastard.”

Harry just sat there, staring down and biting his knuckles. He lost all control. His shoulders rose and fell as he dry-heaved, wracked with sobs beyond tears. He felt two pairs of hands patting him on his shoulders, holding him. Harry buried his face in the nearest of them as the three of them cried at the small kitchen table, letting all of their grief find a voice. Harry looked up to find himself looking into Tonks's hazel eyes. He had never noticed how blue-green they could be. He tended not to notice when she could change the colour on a whim, but right now they were incredible, the blue and green flecks catching the light.

He pulled her close again. He breathed the familiar scent of Tonks as she hugged him. He flinched when her arms pressed against his cracked ribs, but he didn’t let her go when she tried to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” he told her shoulder from within her tight embrace, “I didn’t realize…”

“I was just so scared,” she cried into his t-shirt.

“Sorry, Nymphadora,” Harry said softly.

“My Nymph,” he whispered even more softly. He half expected her to correct him in anger, but she just looked up at him with a small nod before burying her face against him once more.

“Okay, you two can continue that later,” Amelia said as she gathered their attention once more.

“I heard most of what happened at St. Mungo’s, but I need to hear it from you, Harry. Remus told me you were the one closest to Sirius when he fell through the veil,” Amelia looked at him, resolve battling with sorrow.

Harry sighed. He knew it was best to do this quickly.

 _This is going to suck_ , he thought.

Harry began by recounting his History of Magic exam, where Voldemort had tried to establish a connection, but he had kept him at bay. He had waited until after his exam to go to an empty classroom before seeing the vision.

He then reluctantly shared the vision of Tonks being tortured in the Department of Mysteries, how he had tried to use his two-way mirror to get in contact with Sirius, but Sirius hadn’t answered.

“He told me it had been missing for days,” Amelia said, frowning.

“I will bet two-hundred galleons to a sickle that Kreacher has it,” Harry said darkly. “He sold Tonks out to _him_. He wanted to stay with Bellatrix, who would be legally the next in line before your child is born, so she would get Grimmauld and Kreacher after that. He is deranged, convinced of what Sirius’ mother and the Black family think about pureblood politics. Sirius was always the traitor to the House of Black.”

“I see,” Amelia said. “Sirius didn’t treat him well either, but I never really tried to stop him. No one was completely blameless here.”

Harry wanted to refute it, but looking at it with Sirius’ widow made him admit that Sirius really didn’t treat Kreacher all that well.

“So, Kreacher probably told them about Tonks and the way she was protective of me during last summer when she had… er… when she had an _argument_ with Mrs. Weasley,” Harry scratched his chin, “Voldemort knew she was important to me, and since he couldn’t get Hermione from Hogwarts without revealing himself to the world, it was easier to grab Tonks. When I found her missing,” Harry shrugged, “I panicked, I floo’d my head to Grimmauld, and that’s when I found Kreacher being rather smug.”

“That’s when we got caught by Umbridge,” Harry went on. “She wanted to know if we had contacted Dumbledore. Hermione got her to believe that we had been preparing a weapon in the Forbidden Forest. You know the vile woman, of course, she treated the already angry centaur herd like they were animals.” Harry couldn’t help himself from releasing a vengeful smile as he told this part. “They did not take it well.”

“Dumbledore marched into the forest to rescue her. She is apparently non-responsive in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing,” Amelia stated grimly.

“Oh,” Harry said without joy nor empathy. “Well, by then Neville, Luna, Susan, Ginny, and Ron caught up to us. They had been in on it after hearing what _he_ had shown me, I had tried to get a message across to Professor Snape ‘He has the changeling where it is hidden’. You know the man, he didn’t show any emotion on his face, so we decided to rush to the Ministry ourselves. We found it completely deserted, which wasn’t a good sign. We found Tonks under the Imperius Curse near the prophecy about Voldemort and me – it was a trap of course – but we couldn’t let her be there alone. The Death Eaters came out of the dark as soon as I grabbed the prophecy. We pretty much destroyed the entire room and that’s when the fighting really started…”

Harry took a swig of his tea, his throat felt dry and he was probably dehydrated. He kept telling the story in as much detail as possible until it came to him dueling with Malfoy and Bellatrix back to back with Sirius.

“A stray jet hit him in the chest, and he fell through the veil, he had just told me that his idiot son needed saving,” Harry said flatly, the emotions still too raw to be expressed. “Bellatrix was fleeing, the last one standing. She taunted me, I broke the bones in her arm with a curse, it was dangling, useless, the bone poking through her skin. I was ready to kill her, honestly. I chased her out into the Atrium. We began dueling once more after I…” the words failing him.

“After what?” Amelia asked calmly.

“Well after I hit her with the Cruciatus Curse, I wanted her to hurt. I was fine with giving her the same treatment as she had given the Longbottoms. I would have done it, too, if Hermione hadn’t shown up. That’s when Voldemort found out the prophecy had been destroyed, he Apparated into the Atrium to kill me. I was exhausted, I stood no chance. Hermione froze up.”

His eyes were open, but he was seeing only Hermione, stricken with panic before Voldemort. “I don’t blame her. He decided to hurt her in the worst imaginable way. He obliviated the last five years of her memories. I lost the girl I love, and she lost what she treasured the most, what made her, who she is. He taunted me with it. He _enjoyed_ it. That’s when Dumbledore showed up. He transfigured the statues to protect us both and trapped Bellatrix. I put Hermione under a sleeping spell so she wouldn’t wake up and then just held her, trying to shield her with my body. Voldemort possessed me, I guess, or at least spoke through me, daring Dumbledore to kill us both. Dumbledore held back, and Voldemort couldn’t keep his hold on me for long. Something about the sacrificial magic from my mother still protecting me. That’s when Fudge and the Aurors showed up. They saw Voldemort as he Apparated away with Bellatrix. Dumbledore made a portkey for me to take me back to his office.”

“And the prophecy?” Amelia asked.

“Shattered, but I found that it had been given to Dumbledore in the first place,” Harry said. “He told me a bullshit story, about how I was too young for the knowledge before. The short story is that I am prophesied to fight Voldemort one day and one of us can’t live if the other survives. That’s when I left for St. Mungo’s. I needed to see Hermione, but I guess you heard the rest of that part from Susan.”

“It just became too much,” Harry trailed off.

“I understand,” Amelia said. Tonks had been crying softly throughout the story.

“You have to understand,” implored Harry, “I couldn’t protect anyone.”

“You have Sirius’ arrogance, for sure,” Amelia said. “It wasn’t up to you to save everyone. Sirius would smack you if he heard you talking like that. He was a grown man and a damn fine duelist too. You disrespect his memory by saying that he needed your protection.”

Harry looked shocked.

“I understand if you feel bad for what happened to Hermione,” Amelia said looking at him with love in her eyes, “but she is alive. Yes, her memories are lost, for now at least. She is not the same person she was, but do you honestly think she is going to take this lying down?”

Harry shook his head.

“But Mr. Granger said…” Harry began.

“And he was right to say it,” Amelia cut him off. “It would not be good for either of you be together right now. I was told that they will use letters Hermione has sent over the years, stories she’s shared with her parents, even their memories of her from her time at Hogwarts, to try and kickstart some of her memories. Until she has some framework for understanding what’s happened, trying to understand her relationship with you would be an unbearable burden.”

Harry felt his heart clench but nodded solemnly.

Amelia added calmly, “I have quit the DMLE.”

“What?” Harry and Tonks cried out together.

“Yes, I owe it to Sirius and myself to protect our children,” Amelia nodded, “I will be bringing Susan and the baby here when Summer starts. We’ll stay here, together.”

Harry nodded, understanding.

“We’ll of course need to extend the charms, maybe even add a floor. We can get the goblins to help us with that.” Amelia was already planning.

“That would be a fortune?!” Tonks said.

“Well we can’t stay at Grimmauld Place until we know who has gained the right to it, and frankly I don’t fancy living there much,” Amelia said. “And my own home is not nearly safe enough for us to stay there. I have already sent the necessary paperwork to sell the property to the goblins through Gringotts. This place is inconspicuous, and we can upgrade the security.”

Tonks looked pale.

“There is no need for discussion,” Amelia said, “I know we are intruding on your home, Tonks, but it is for all of our safety.”

“No, no that’s not it, it was just worrying about the money since you’re technically out of work,” Tonks explained anxiously.

“We’ll manage. It paid quite well to be a Department Head at the Ministry, and the Bones family is comfortable, considering there is only Susan left in the direct line now that I am Amelia Black.”

“I can do it,” Harry said suddenly.

“Do what?” Amelia looked at Harry, who still seemed lost in his own head.

“The extension charms. I did them before, for Sirius.” He waved his hand vaguely at the magical extension he’d added when Sirius had moved in. “It wasn’t too hard.”

Amelia shook her head. “You can’t follow the simplest rules we lay down for you, son, but you can do transfiguration work that takes years of research. No wonder You-Know-Who is afraid of you…”

“You’re welcome here,” Tonks said firmly. “You and Susan.”

“It’s settled, then. Honestly, I rather fancy living in the place where Sirius was most happy, here with the two of you. Now then,” Amelia said, “that is all for now. You really should eat something, both of you.”

Harry picked up the untouched banana and mechanically peeled and ate it. He still didn’t feel hungry, but he needed the strength.

“Both of you, take care, and get some rest,” Amelia said softly, “I can help you take care of the repairs and cleaning up before I go.”

Amelia turned to Harry.

“I know it hurts,” Amelia said, “but remember: if there is anyone who has lost as much as you did last night, it’s me. If you need someone to talk to, I am still your Auntie Amelia.”

Harry nodded mutely.

“I’ll begin taking you through the knowledge and skills needed to be an Auror over the summer. Potions, curses, spells, jinxes. I won’t you feel undefended, Harry.” Amelia said with a steely look in her eyes.

Harry looked up at her, a flicker of life showing in his eyes.

“That’s the look I was hoping for,” Amelia mused sadly. “So, do you need my help cleaning before I go?”

Tonks agreed that she and Harry were still up to handling it.

“Then you shouldn’t go back to school just yet. Your exams are already finished, so there is no reason for you to be there except for the end-of-the-year feast.” Amelia nodded.

Amelia returned to the Ministry to wrap up her affairs there.

“Can I do this on my own?” Harry said as he pointed towards the bathroom, “You can gather your clothes in the meantime.”

He looked around her clothes were spread all over the floor.

“Okay,” she nodded.

Harry went towards the bathroom after grabbing his wand from her bedroom. He rubbed his forehead when he looked at the crime scene once more.

“She must have been really scared looking at all this blood,” Harry muttered to himself.

“I was, you know,” Tonks said from behind him. Her arms were full of dirty clothes.

Harry had moved quickly, he was already in a position to fight when he realized she wasn’t a threat.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized, “I think I might be a little tense still.”

“It’s okay,” Tonks tried to send him a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Whatever Auntie gave me certainly helped,” Harry said, “I’m just sore and rather hungry.”

“I can imagine, you have eaten, what, a banana, since lunch two days ago?”

“Sounds about right,” Harry chuckled a bit to himself. “I’ll go make dinner after I have taken care of all this.”

“I’ll help,” she offered.

“Really?” Harry smirked if only half-heartedly, “You will help with cleaning up?”

“Oh shut it,” Tonks blushed, “I have gotten a little better since last summer.”

Harry looked around the flat and raised his eyebrows comically.

“Okay, fine,” Tonks pouted.

“Give me five minutes and you can take a shower,” Harry said. “You held me when I was sweating all over, it can’t have been nice.”

“ _I didn’t mind_ ,” Tonks whispered to herself.

“What was that?” Harry asked over his shoulder but was focusing on finding a cleaning spell that could remove blood from wood.

“Oh, nothing,” Tonks said, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Could you check what food is in the fridge?” Harry asked.

“Mmhmm,” Tonks said with a genuine smile feeling there was some semblance of normalcy at the way Harry would take care of their home.

Harry focused on his magical theory. He finally composed a spell on the fly which should work specifically for the blood.

_“Sanguine Scourgify”_

The patches of blood were filled with bubbles as Harry’s wand moved in the specified pattern. When he managed to clean the tiles and bathtub of blood he moved to the hallway.

 _“Sanguine Scourgify_ ” he pointed his wand at the dried blood on the floorboards, he watched with contentment as he removed the bubbles and found them clean of any trace of this morning’s incident. He looked at his wrists, there was hardly a mark. It was almost as if it never happened. Well not really, since Tonks still looked at him with worried eyes, and who could blame her. She was the one to find him in the bathtub.

He shuddered. He didn’t blame Leo for doing it. He had been right, if Tonks hadn’t found him in time, he really wouldn’t have to feel all this pain. He moved his arms and let out another groan. This really wasn’t going to heal immediately.

The shadows of what he had done still lingering. He remembered the words Sirius had shared with him last summer.

“ _Does it ever get better?” Harry had asked._

_“Hasn’t it already?”_

Harry managed a weak smile when he was done.

“It will get easier with time,” Tonks said to him gently. “Now go sleep. I’ll be here to take care of you. I‘m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Harry brushed past her and opened the door to his bedroom.

“I’m afraid,” he said, facing the empty bedroom.

“Of what?” Tonks asked.

“The nightmares,” Harry admitted. “Hermione… She would hold me as I slept.”

“I can do that if it comes to it,” Tonks offered carefully, “If it will help, you can always sleep next to me.”

Harry remembered the way her naked body had looked, and shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said, not really believing it himself.

“If you say so. Good night then, Harry.”

Harry looked back at her back as she disappeared into her room, the door closing off his view of her legs, and the cotton shorts she had hurriedly thrown on a lifetime previously.

 _Sleeping next to Tonks? No, no, no, I can’t do that_.

He opened the door and flung himself on the bed, he felt like he could sleep forever as his head hit the pillow, he didn’t even bother undressing as he laid there facedown in the pillow. After a few moments, he reached a hand between his face and his pillow, extracting his glasses and blindly setting them on the bedside table.

He fell, once again, into an uneasy sleep. 


	2. Godfather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry deals with the aftermath of his suicide attempt. Tonks provides comfort, at some cost to her own peace of mind.
> 
> Amelia has a request.
> 
> They plan to expand the Carnaby Street flat.

**Chapter 2. Godfather**

_The dark corridor stretched out in front of him, and he knew that in the darkness there was a door at its end. He didn’t want to go down the hall. He turned around and started running, he looked over his shoulder as he ran, panting, but the door came closer and closer, it sprung open, he felt himself swallowed by a great beast, the room spun around him—_

_“How do I get out of here?”_

_All of the doors opened, but there was nothing behind them, only a score of intangible, ghostlike veils and endless whispers, only unyielding darkness. He stumbled backward and fell down, down through the darkness. He lay on a stone floor. Friends were here, he knew, but he saw no one, just bodiless brains. He looked at the large brains which were flying in the air. There was a large bell jar into which the brains would fly, shrinking and expanding as they all floated closer to him. Again, whispers, and at the edge of his vision, the veil._

_“No!”_

_He crawled backward and fell again, down again, down a set of stairs, landing again on stone, staring at the looming stone arch, at the great veil, and Sirius! Sirius, falling, falling through, over and over again. He heard the gleeful voice of a madwoman, sing-song, joyful._

_“I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!”_

_He was on a flat marble tile floor. His glasses were broken, but he was shutting his eyes. He could not look at what he knew was coming._

_“Is this what you call brave?” the icy voice sounded into his ear._

_“No, don’t, I beg you!”_

_He looked. He could not help himself. He looked up and saw Hermione,_ his _Hermione._

“Obliviate!”

_“Who are you? … you … you…” Her terrified voice echoed in confusion, joining the ceaseless chorus of whispers, as everything went dark—_

Harry woke up with a scream, drenched in sour sweat. The door to his bedroom burst open. Tonks, the trained Auror, wand in hand, her eyes sweeping the room, edged cautiously towards him. Her hair was limp and disheveled, and it had taken on a sad, dull-brown colour.

Harry looked to her and pleaded, “I can’t do this.” He scrubbed his fists across his eyes, to push away the images still in his mind.

He felt her arms wrap around his body. He leaned into her embrace, his heart still racing as he gulped for air.

“It’s okay,” her soothing voice told him. “It’s going to be okay; it was a nightmare. You’re here now, and I’m with you.” He felt her soft breath as she murmured comfortingly in his ear. He felt the warmth of her body next to him. His breathing began to ease a little, but his body was taut, and his eyes burned with new tears.

“I don’t want to see it again,” he said. This was the second night, both the same, since the Department of Mysteries. “I can’t. Not again.”

He heard the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway.

“I knew it,” he heard the voice of Amelia. “You two are so alike.”

“Auntie,” Harry said in a small voice. “What do I do?"

“You can’t be alone right now, Harry,” Amelia said with some exasperation. “Tonks is family, too. I want her to stay with you until you get some sleep.”

Harry felt Tonks's arms turn a little stiff, before relaxing again.

“If it would help you, I could just lie next to you until you feel better,” Tonks offered with a quivering voice.

“Really?” Harry looked up at her very weakly.

“Really,” Tonks nodded, her expression reassuring and calm.

“Hold me…? It’s okay if you fall asleep, too…” Harry sighed softly as he relaxed completely into her.

He felt her body tense up once more, but he was already sliding towards sleep. He pushed himself back down into the bed and rolled to one side. He felt her arms wrap around him, and he fell into a more easy, mercifully more peaceful sleep as he felt her heartbeat against his chest.

Amelia sent a glance towards Tonks, who was lying nestled into him. Tonks had an indecisive look in her eyes. Amelia knew that Tonks would do this, would probably do anything, to help Harry, but she was also guilty, wary of the temptation of finding joy in his closeness.

Tonks rationalized in her own mind that this was an emergency, and her own eyelids began to droop as she surrendered to the peaceful feeling of Harry’s body against hers. We’ll stop when Harry gets his nightmares under control, she thought as she drifted off.

Amelia covered them both with a blanket, and softly closed the door.

She returned to her almost finished letter for her personal account manager. She had ordered a two-floor extension upwards for the flat. She would let the young people’s bedrooms be on the second floor. On the third, uppermost floor she had asked them to make an open, training space. The bottom floor would have her bedroom, where she and the baby would stay. The room where Sirius and she had first known each other after his freedom would be the basis for her bedroom, as it should be. The other existing bedrooms and the current bath would be subsumed into the overall expansion. 

She wanted no trace of that bath remaining, both for Harry’s sake and for Tonks. She hoped it would suffice. The goblins were master craftsmen even if they sometimes took an exorbitant price, but there was no way she wanted Harry attempting this kind of taxing work in his present state. And she certainly wanted to be sure neither Harry nor Tonks were ever forced to linger in that bath again.

She rubbed her forehead and tried in vain to relax her lower back as well. She had been managing to raise Susan on her own, and now she would have two more to be responsible for, one of them an infant. This was getting to be a literal headache.

She had informed Susan of her decisions when she had visited St. Mungo’s. Susan had not seemed all that thrilled but had not complained either. She had asked if Ginny could come and visit though, which had briefly puzzled Amelia a little since she didn’t ask for Hannah Abbott, as she had expected. That is an entirely different conversation, she thought. Amelia decided to take advantage of the momentary peace to sit down and try to get her legs raised up. Her ankles were killing her.

Harry felt somewhat refreshed as he woke once again. The nightmares had returned, but they had lacked the intensity they previously had possessed. He imagined it as the difference between a dementor, and a boggart playing at being a dementor.

He felt the slow, deep breath of Tonks against his neck. There was something soothing about feeling her next to him. It was a sort of warm security. He resisted the urge to compare the feeling with his memories of Hermione. His heart was still broken, the wound still too fresh. At the same time, he needed to find some way to move forward. He wanted to get stronger, to be sure that Voldemort could never hurt anyone close to him like that again. He absently toyed with the teardrop jewel hanging from the chain on his wrist.

 _I promise you: I will end this,_ he silently swore to his Hermione.

 _It isn’t like she is gone,_ a nasty thought sounded in his head.

 _Leo?_ Harry asked, but it wasn’t him. No, it was just that normal, ordinary little bit of selfish desire which still claimed Hermione as _his_.

 _I may be gone, but she will still need your help,_ a voice that sounded so very much like _his_ Hermione. _I still need you to protect me…_

 _I will,_ Harry once more affirmed his resolve.

 _Enough of this,_ he told himself. _Too much of this talking to yourself and you’ll go crazy_.

He let a painful chuckle escape his lips as he tried to carefully move out of Tonks's arms.

“Hmph,” she voiced sleepily.

Tonks had never been good at waking up. He watched as she groped around for him in the bed, her blinking eyes unfocused as he watched her. He lightly stroked her hair, and a wave of bubblegum pink followed his fingertip against the duller brown. He smiled, delighted at the sign of life, of normalcy. He didn’t know what to feel about their situation, but it was clear that she did help him keep the nightmares at bay. He knew she cared about him, and he cared in return.

He felt as if he owed her far too much. For saving his life on more than one occasion, for being a constant in his life, for helping him grow up. It left a bittersweet taste in his mouth when he remembered that she had told him that she was seeing Reagan. He probably wouldn’t like the fact that she helped Harry this way.

 _Why is nothing in my life simple?_ Harry sighed to himself as he got up and left the room.

He didn’t spot the complicated, uncharacteristically serious look on Tonks's face, as he moved towards the door.

Harry found Amelia sitting on the couch in the living room. She looked weary.

“Are you okay, Auntie?” Harry asked as he moved quietly to her side.

“Well, I have moved around quite a lot today,” she said with a weak smile, “and it isn’t easy being stern and worked up. But then, you look a lot better, so I wager it was worth it. Not going to do anything stupid if I go take a nap?”

“Not any more than usual, no,” Harry promised with a wan smile of his own. “I was going to clean up the place a bit. Tonks seems to not notice it when she’s alone.”

They took in all of the discarded clothes, strewn around the living room.

“I see,” Amelia smirked, “Well, contrary to what you might think, she is quite tidy when she is at her desk. I guess, she overcompensates in both directions depending on whether she is home or not.”

“Maybe,” Harry said, “I think she is still sleeping.”

“Probably, she looked downright exhausted because of you,” Amelia teased.

His face clouded, as always ready to shoulder the blame.

“I’m not sure if it is a good idea, this,” he pointed back over his shoulder, “What would her boyfriend think?”

“Oh, relax Harry.” Amelia didn’t know how much to share, it not being her story to tell. “They aren’t together anymore in any event, I believe.”

Harry looked surprised.

“You didn’t know?” Amelia asked.

“No, I haven’t really been able to write anyone without putting Hedwig in danger,” Harry said bitterly.

“Was it really that bad with Dolores, before that night, I mean?” Amelia frowned.

Harry unconsciously reached over and covered the back of his right hand as he nodded.

“Don’t worry about it now. We can talk about it after your nap,” Harry said quickly.

“Alright, but I will have you tell me,” Amelia said with a firm look, which Harry had come to know meant he wasn’t getting out of talking about it.

“Yes, Auntie,” Harry said, raising his hands in surrender.

“Oh right,” Amelia said, “There is a _Prophet_ on the kitchen table, the tune is quite — different— about you, this time around.”

Harry groaned loudly.

“So, am I the second coming of Gryffindor now?” Harry asked in disbelief, it had only been a joke in the morning, but now when they were late into the afternoon, he really didn’t want to think about just what they had written about him.

“It isn’t _that_ bad,” Amelia chuckled, as she moved to get up.

Harry rushed forward and extended his arm for her to grab.

“Thank you,” Amelia said. “As much as I love this little one, they certainly don’t make it easy for me to move around.”

“I can imagine,” Harry said, thinking that walking around with a Quaffle tied to his stomach would make every motion rather uncomfortable.

“It is not like having a Quaffle bound to my stomach, in fact,” Amelia teased.

“What? I didn’t…”

“Sirius had the exact same look on his face,” she explained with a smile.

She laughed as she moved towards Sirius’ room and disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the distinct sounds of muffled crying from behind it, and once more felt the pang of guilt hitting his chest. It really wasn’t fair that she had to be strong for him too.

_I will do my best to get better fast, the least I can do is make it easier for you when you have the baby._

Harry began gathering Tonks's clothes from the floor. They had done a quick run over the flat the first day after his return, but Tonks seemed to spontaneously generate clutter when left unchecked. He didn’t use his wand as he wanted to move his aching body. It was silly, but somehow the aching pain from his bruises made the pains of his heart less prominent. He slowly walked towards the bathroom to throw all of the clothes in the laundry basket. He could not see any remaining trace of the damage, or of the water, or of the blood. But still, he knew.

He shuddered and backed out of the bathroom. He went to the table and sat down with the Prophet.

> **HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS!**
> 
> A spokes-witch working for the Minister of Magic announced to stunned reporters today that the Ministry could confirm the return of You Know Who. Clara Ogden, Under-Minister for standards of weights and measures, read the following prepared text.
> 
> “The Ministry is pained to confirm that the notorious Dark Wizard, well, You Know Who, is alive and at large in Great Britain. We have confirmed sightings by witnesses, borne out by interrogation by trusted Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and additional physical and arcane evidence collected by the DMLE.”
> 
> “Further, it appears that there has been a mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who no longer respond to the commands of the Ministry’s appointed gaolers.”
> 
> “Please remain calm. We expect further guidance for home preparedness and civil defense procedures to be available within the coming month, once materials have been vetted by Ministry staff. Thank you.”
> 
> Under-Minister Ogden did not answer repeated questions, including why such a relatively minor official was delivering this news, or the current location and activity of the Minister himself, Cornelius Fudge.
> 
> Details of the events which triggered this stunning change in position by the Ministry remain cloudy, but may be related to the alleged break-in by so-called Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries. According to Ministry sources, both Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, are assisting Aurors with their inquiries…”

“The Boy Who Lived,” Harry muttered. “I guess that is better than the Chosen One, or something. Funny, how quickly I turned from ‘Boy-Who-Lied’ to this nonsense once again.”

“It sells papers, and it brings people hope that you’ve survived,” Amelia’s voice from her bedroom doorway startled him.

“It’s just so unreasonable,” Harry fired back.

“Of course it is,” Amelia said with a smile, “but that is the name of the game. Even if you survive all of this, you will probably never live a life without fame, a ton of fangirls, being a VIP at any event you go to in Britain. That is just something you will have to deal with.”

Harry felt a headache coming.

“Well, we should probably focus on self-transfiguration this summer,” Amelia smiled, “It is a rather nifty skill to have, when wanting to be inconspicuous, you might even be able to tame that hair of yours,” she teased him.

“Don’t think that is even possible,” Harry laughed feeling a little better, “The Potters have tried for generations. Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion was made by my grandfather; didn’t help my father much.”

Amelia laughed at that.

“So, I’ve never asked, but I take it you are comfortably well off?”

“I think so,” Harry answered honestly. “Enough to put me through Hogwarts, and I know I’ve hardly touched what my parents left me.”

“You’re in the same position as me,” Amelia said, “If you’re among the last of an old family, it’s quite easy for the wealth to gather on one person.”

Tonks stumbled into the room, her hair nearly pink again, blinking owlishly. She headed towards the coffee rather than the teapot. “Who’s gathering wealth, again?”

“Harry,” Amelia deadpanned. “Stinking rich. Swimming in it.”

Harry felt embarrassed at that until he saw Amelia’s smile and the alarm and surprise on Tonks's face.

“Oh,” Tonks said as she blushed. “Hadn’t thought about that.”

“And you needn’t do,” Amelia smiled at the young woman. “You know Harry, not one to flaunt it.”

“Right,” Tonks said, still looking a little embarrassed.

“You alright, Amelia?” Harry asked.

“Well aside from looking like I swallowed a planet, yes.” Amelia grimaced. “Every time I get tired of sitting, it takes me five minutes to stand. And then I need to sit down again; I am not as mobile as I’d like to be.”

“Oh,” Harry scratched his head.

“Well, come and help me here,” Amelia shook her head.

Harry rushed forward.

“I am not fragile, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to be a gentleman,” Amelia teased.

“Right, Auntie,” Harry said as he helped her to a chair.

“I quite like it when you call me that,” Amelia said.

Harry felt a little flustered, he wasn’t quite comfortable calling her that yet, but after their talk earlier, he really couldn’t stop calling her it now. He transfigured an end table into a footstool and slid it under her aching feet.

“Now you’re learning,” Amelia sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.

He quickly got to cooking. It was easier keeping busy and focused on something other than the situation around him. He felt safe, yet also under an unyielding burden.

“So, seeing as I am not that mobile,” Amelia focused on Tonks, “I have written a letter to my account manager at Gringotts—you can ask for Gnarlock—and he will authenticate the letter and get to work on the extensions on the flat. You’ll have to bring them here or let them in on the secret, seeing as you are the Secret Keeper. You can do it tomorrow.”

“Yes, Boss,” Tonks said with a smile.

“Call me Amelia, I am not your boss anymore,” Amelia reprimanded.

“Right,” Tonks said with a smile. “Boss.”

They made inconsequential small talk as Harry finished preparing the food. He was beginning to get his appetite back, which was a good sign, and he had made loads extra. Tonks had always been a heavy eater. She claimed transfiguring herself burned a lot of calories, which might be true. She could probably even put Ron to shame if she wanted to. She certainly never showed any signs of gaining undesired weight.

Amelia was eating for two, and Harry hadn’t really eaten anything much for days.

“Must be really nice to be able to eat like that,” Amelia commented when Tonks leaned back rubbing her stomach.

“Well, it takes a lot of energy to metamorph,” Tonks said with a smile. “I can pretty easily just burn it off. As you can imagine, it was NOT a talent that made me popular with the other Hufflepuff girls at school.”

Amelia shook her head at that, she was old enough to not care as much, but a tiny part of her was still feeling annoyed at the convenient metabolism that Tonks had. Sensible enough to not touch further on the topic, though, she let it rest.

“Harry,” Amelia said, looking serious again, “I know this is probably a little too soon for you to think about, but you will be of age not too long from now, and I want you to have time to think about it. What would you say to being the godfather of my child? It was one of Sirius’ biggest wishes.”

The fork fell out of his hands and clattered on is plate as Harry looked at her in shock. He pointed at himself as he was trying to compute the words coming out of her mouth.

“I’m not…” Harry said.

“Able to protect them? Worthy of the honour? Not sure you are going to survive?” Amelia asked calmly.

“Well, yeah. All of those.”

“We both knew that, but you are the closest Sirius has to family except for Remus, but because of the Werewolf laws in Britain, he can’t become a legal godfather for our child,” Amelia said with a little sadness.

“I –” Harry grasped for words.

“I know it is a lot to put on a fifteen-year-old, but let's be honest here, you are not a typical fifteen, are you?” Amelia said sitting back. “It would make both of us happy if you said yes. I also want our child to grow up with a father figure. I have asked Susan to be the Godmother, she has said yes. So, you’d not be alone.”

Harry felt rather overwhelmed at the proposition. He didn’t feel nearly mature enough to be able to take care of a child at this point in his life, not with the war around him.

“Look at it this way. If Sirius had lived, thinking of you as a son, this child would be your half-brother or sister, siblings in all the ways that matter to us. But by law, you are no relation to this child at all. Accepting this would be a way to keep alive your connection to Sirius, and to me, and to the baby.” Amelia Stretched, wincing as she rubbed at her back.

“Think about it at least? I know it is a big decision, and I don’t plan on dying just yet. I am seriously planning on seeing this kid onto the Hogwarts express in eleven years.” She rested her hands over her swollen belly.

“When are you due?” Harry found himself asking.

“Well considering nothing out of the ordinary, I should give birth in the beginning of August,” Amelia smiled proudly, so around ten or eleven weeks from now.”

“Wait, so soon?!” Harry said alarmed.

Tonks and Amelia chuckled. It was refreshing seeing the usually calm Harry rattled about being a godfather and even more freaked out about a pregnancy. He positively showed his youth at the moment.

“Don’t worry,” Amelia said, “I have arranged for guards when I give birth at St. Mungo’s, and barring anything going wrong, I will be out of there soon after.”

“Well, that wasn’t what I was worried about,” Harry said with a bemused expression on his face.

“Calm down,” Amelia chuckled, “Even if you don’t feel ready to be a godfather, it isn’t like you are supposed to raise them. I can perfectly take care of that. I just want them to have you around to play with them when they get a little older and maybe have ‘The Talk’ if it is a boy.”

The last part was mostly to tease him, but both of the two witches couldn’t help laughing loudly when they watched Harry go deadly pale in his face from the thought of having The Talk.

“Sirius looked exactly the same after he had The Talk with you,” Amelia grinned, “He downed three glasses of firewhisky that afternoon.”

Harry felt hard-pressed to laugh at that, but he could still see the irony. Sirius had given him The Talk and now he might have to have The Talk with Sirius’ child. He rubbed his temples, which only facilitated more laughter from his company.

“Okay,” Harry said looking up, “but if it is a girl, I will leave that talk to Susan.”

“Deal,” Amelia smiled, “As long as I don’t have to have it, I’m good.”

“You haven’t had it with Susan?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t think they were quite the right things that I focused on,” Amelia said with a wry smile.

“I can see that,” Harry smirked, “She is happy though.”

“I know she is,” Amelia said with a smile.

Tonks looked confusedly between them.

“What are you two talking about?” she frowned.

“Erm –” Harry scratched his head.

“Susan is a lesbian, dear,” Amelia said matter-of-factly, “I had my suspicions, but she tipped me off recently. So, when I gave her the talking-to about boys, it wasn’t really all that relevant.”

Tonks gaped.

“As far as I can tell, she has been dating the Weasley girl for months,” Amelia said, “though I don’t think they have told Molly yet, so keep it quiet, will you?”

Tonks nodded.

“They hooked up at your wedding, actually,” Harry said with a nostalgic smile. “Susan was more than happy to switch rooms with Hermione.” He couldn’t help his smile from fading.

“You alright?” Tonks asked with concern.

“Yeah, yeah…”

Neither Amelia nor Tonks believed him, but it wasn’t a good time to pry into it.

“The wedding, eh?” Amelia mused. “The old think the young are stupid, and the young think the old are broke-down, I suppose.”

Harry stretched and winced as his remaining bruises sent a jolt of pain through his body.

“You should really use the healing cream before going to bed,” Amelia said looking concerned.

“I will,” Harry said, “I’ll go take a shower; I still feel dirty after all of the sweating.”

Tonks sent him a worried look.

“I’ll leave my wand with you if it makes you calm down,” Harry said, a little sad.

“No, no, that’s not needed,” Tonks said quickly.

“I think that is a good idea,” Amelia said looking into Harry’s eyes shrewdly.

“Ouch,” Harry tried to fake injury, but Amelia was not budging.

“Harry, you did something very stupid. It might look reasonable to you, but I do not trust you to be at all alone especially in that bathroom, after the other morning,” Amelia said.

“Fair,” Harry said bitterly.

“This does not change the way we feel about you in any way,” Amelia continued.

“I get it, I get it,” Harry said, almost throwing his wand on the table. He couldn’t help feeling more naked without it than he did without his clothes.

He stalked out and into the bathroom. He wanted to quickly finish his shower, so he could get his wand back. It didn’t even take three minutes before he reached out of the shower and groped into the thin air for his wand. He growled as it was still in the kitchen. He looked around and there wasn’t even a towel for him to dry himself on. He moved to the door and cracked it open enough to shout down the hallway.

“Since I am without wand or towel, could someone bring me one or the other?” he half-angrily called out.

“Sure,” he heard Tonks's voice from the kitchen, heard her steps as she found a towel in his dresser. He only showed his wet face in the opened door, still dripping water.

“Thanks,” he murmured as he pulled the towel from her hands. He closed the door and dried himself off, then he realized that in his frustration he hadn’t even brought a fresh change of clothes.

It doesn’t matter, he thought to himself, as he tied the towel around his waist and walked out to find a rather apprehensive Tonks waiting in the hallway. Her eyes widened a bit when she spotted his naked torso. Harry walked past her and into his bedroom to throw on some random clothes, but he decided that he would wait with the t-shirt until he had applied the cream for his bruises.

He walked out half-naked and into the kitchen, carrying his t-shirt over his arm. Amelia didn’t even bat an eye as he went to the counter and grabbed the cream, he opened up the container and began applying it to his skin under a stream of curses and hisses. He found that he couldn’t reach several nasty areas on his back. He didn’t want to ask for help, but he didn’t want to leave the bruises which covered most of his back either.

“A little help here?” he looked at Amelia, who was just casually staring at him.

She shook her head. “Pregnant, remember? Minimal contact with magical remedies unless under the instruction of a Healer. Ask Tonks.”

Tonks, who had come back onto the kitchen and was trying to keep her eyes averted from Harry, was feeling rather overwhelmed at the suggestion. She still sucked it up and grabbed the container, then she pointed towards a chair.

“Sit down,” she said shakily.

Harry pulled out the chair and sat on it backward, his legs spread around the back of the chair. He felt a pair of soft hands that gently applied the cream to his back.

“Oh, _arse_ ,” he gasped under his breath as the sore skin was touched.

“I’m sorry,” Tonks panicked.

“It’s okay,” Harry said, “I would rather it was applied than not. Not your fault, I’m just mad at myself.”

Tonks nodded and continued to apply medicine to the large purple bruises on his back.

Harry felt a wave of relief when she told him she was done.

“I’ll get my legs later, they’re not so bad,” he said to no one in particular.

“Whatever you think is best,” Amelia said as casually as ever.

Harry pulled his t-shirt over his head and couldn’t help grimace as cream and cotton stuck to his skin.

“It should start to feel better by tomorrow,” Amelia said matter-of-factly.

“I hope so,” Harry said annoyed, “can I have my wand back now?”

“Yes,” Amelia said with a hint of amusement.

“I just feel naked without it, that’s all,” Harry looked a little perturbed.

“That is completely understandable,” Amelia replied, looking down, “I see what you mean.”

“Oh?” He looked down, where the towel hiked up over his wide-spread legs on the chair. A wave of embarrassment flooded over him. “Bollocks, let me grab some trousers.”

“Perhaps that might be best,” Amelia said, taking another sip of tea.

Harry left to change. Tonks, without a word, went to the sink and splashed water on her face. Amelia charmed up a tea-towel for her to dry her face, also without comment.

“Well, I better get to work on those extensions then,” Harry said, stalking back into the room, trying to make himself busy.

“I was going to have the goblins do it,” Amelia said. “Unless you really think something this complex would be helpfully distracting?”

“Oh, hell yes, please,” Harry responded.

They talked about her plans, avoiding her reasons for removing the current downstairs bath.

“Aye, that should be doable,” Harry said, “We will need a sort of staircase in the middle, maybe at the end of the hallway, I could make it spiral, or a twist with a landing, so it doesn’t take much space.”

“That would do it,” Amelia said.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon extending the flat upwards. He needed to extend it enough to make two additional floors. It was taking all of his focus and transfiguration knowledge to do it. He only managed to make the empty floors by dinnertime. He had just laid down the wooden floors when he came back down the spiral staircase.

“Don’t mind me not checking out your work,” Amelia said as he came into the kitchen, “but I’m not going to try that staircase in this condition.” She was cooking by waving her wand from the kitchen table.

“I managed to make the floors, but the walls are still bare and I haven’t separated them into rooms. Also, I was thinking I might need to make the plumbing magical, which I am not sure I can enchant on my own,” he admitted.

“Tonks can buy the necessary implements tomorrow, or call a goblin contractor to assist if needed,” Amelia said, “I have written you a letter which gives you access to my accounts.”

Tonks nodded. “Should Harry come with me?”

“That is probably not a good idea,” Amelia frowned. “At least, not until he is good enough to disguise himself.”

Harry agreed on that point; it would be dangerous for him to run around without a disguise in more ways than one right now.

They ate the food Amelia had prepared. Harry could not have said later what it was, only that it was hot and satisfied his body. The three then went to their separate rooms. Harry watched Amelia, willingly going into a room that must be stuffed with painful reminders of happier times and was impressed by her fortitude. He himself felt ridiculously unprepared for what awaited him in his bed, alone with his thoughts. He thought back to the sleep he had gotten next to Tonks, so much calmer than him sleeping on his own.

No, you need to fix this on your own. Relying on others puts them in danger, he told himself sternly as he walked into his bedroom. As he lay down, he could still smell Tonks on his pillow, and he hated himself a little for finding comfort in that as he fell into an exhausted sleep.


	3. Goblin Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds distraction in magically extending the Carnaby Street flat in anticipation of new arrivals.
> 
> Tonks visits Gringotts.
> 
> Amelia and Tonks discuss Harry's state of mind and emotional health.
> 
> Thordrum the Goblin is impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this story previously, thank you. Be reassured that there are no major plot revisions.
> 
> There are, however, numerous small changes throughout which may reward close reading, and should improve your experience of the story.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Killjoy

**Chapter 3**. **Goblin Invasion**

Harry had still had the same nightmare as the nights before. It was only out of sheer stubbornness that he didn’t cry out when he woke up from his dreams. He felt exhausted when he dragged himself out into the kitchen in the early morning hours. There was a silence to the flat that he quite enjoyed. Dumbledore had sent back his trunk even though there were at least ten more days until the school year officially ended. He had a sneaking suspicion that Amelia had sent a letter, which was only short the magical enchantment to be a howler, seeing as it was only on the third morning after he had gotten back that it arrived.

Harry had felt the limitations of his extension charms last night. He wasn’t sure he could extend the flat fully into a third floor and still keep it stable, so he had picked up his Ancient Runes textbook, _Spellman’s Syllabary,_ to look for potential rune carvings which he could add to the corners of the flat to stabilize the space. On the table next to him was _Ancient Runes Made Easy, Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms,_ and his _Rune Dictionary._ He thought about doing some calculation of the interaction between the rune combinations, but he didn’t have Hermione’s flair for the subject, so he would need Tonks to pick up a calculator, which would help him immensely with his calculations of the rune composition for it to work the right way. Until then, he could at least establish a theoretical possibility before making the calculations.

He didn’t notice the time before Amelia emerged from her bedroom, waddling away as usual in her floaty nightgown towards the bathroom. Harry looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was already seven in the morning. He rubbed his eyes. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting at the table perusing the different books in front of him, but the several feet of notes suggested that he had been working for hours. He stretched his arms over his head. His body was still sore. Amelia had been right that it definitely had gotten a lot better after using the cream, but sitting up all night had not done his body any favours.

He still felt cool and clammy to the touch, but sweaty and overheated inside. The cotton of his t-shirt, which he had just decided to sleep in, was feeling almost stiff at the moment. He took a whiff of himself and grimaced. He needed a shower before breakfast.

He waved his wand and the kettle began whistling soon after. He knew that Amelia had completely sworn off coffee because of the pregnancy, but she was still partial to a mug of green tea in the morning. It wasn’t really caffeinated, so she felt relaxed after drinking a cup. He gathered his notes in a pile and closed the books by the time Amelia had made her way back to the kitchen.

“What are you working on?” she asked.

“Ah,” Harry scratched his chin, “the thing is, I ran into some limitations of the extension charm yesterday. The space was becoming unstable when I pushed it harder, so while we still have an upper or lower floor I would be hard-pressed to extend it further. So instead of using an extension charm for everything, I thought that maybe the correct set of runes would stabilize the space if I carved them into the corners of the flat. It would also make me able to open up the space a little more.”

He handed Amelia, Sirius’ favourite mug in the flat. It was a Muggle cup that Harry had found in a joke shop saying _Dogfather,_ the joke being someone not being able to spell _godfather_. He had chuckled at the way it had fit perfectly for Sirius and had decided to buy it for him as a silly present. Sirius had decided he wouldn’t drink tea out of any other mug in the flat.

Amelia had taken a liking to it, even though Harry had caught her running her thumb over the letters sadly several times as she stared into the tea in the cup. It always left him with a bittersweet feeling seeing her look for the markings and relics of Sirius’ existence in their lives. He couldn’t blame her, he religiously wore the silver chain around his arm, the teardrop hanging freely from his wrist. He hadn’t removed it even when he went to take a shower. It was like it was unbreakably bound on his wrist.

“That is some pretty impressive work then,” Amelia nodded towards the large stack of notes lying on the counter.

“Well, it will only be impressive if it actually works,” Harry said with a weak smile, “I think I need to speak to the Goblins when they get here, maybe get their input on it, also I need Tonks to get me a calculator.”

“What’s that?” Amelia asked, interested in the unusual term.

“Well, think of it as a small machine to do arithmancy calculations for me,” Harry said. “It’s able to do math a lot faster than I can in my head.”

Amelia leaned back in her chair thinking about the implications of such a tool.

“So, it is like a more advanced abacus?” she asked.

Harry couldn’t help himself from laughing at that, sometimes the wizarding world was just too far behind on technology.

“Yes, it is like a super abacus,” he nodded.

“Why don’t people use them more in arithmancy, then?” Amelia frowned.

“Because it’s Muggle, I guess.”

Harry felt himself fighting back the emotions threatening to well up in him. Everything Muggle reminded him of the Grangers. Especially of Hermione; she had always complained about the lack of a calculator when doing her Arithmancy homework. _Hogwarts, A History_ said that you couldn’t bring electronics to Hogwarts, but Harry honestly didn’t believe it. When that book had been first written, the most sophisticated electronics had still used valve technology, not transistors or anything more sophisticated. He would try to bring one and worst-case scenario it would just not work, but he highly doubted that. It would be a fun little experiment for himself to play with, outside of his schoolwork and extracurricular activities.

“That’s just stupid,” Amelia sounded indignant.

“Well, yeah,” Harry chuckled a little at that, “most of wizard common sense is nonsensical in nature. How long did it take for the Ministry to adopt cars?”

“Too long,” Amelia admitted, a little embarrassed.

“They are an excellent, inconspicuous method of transport, and if you do it right you can extend it to carry three times its normal capacity,” Harry said, “You could even make them fly or make them invisible, but it would threaten the broomstick market in Britain, so some of the pureblood families with investment in that business are not too fond of them becoming more popular. It could be a competitor for portkeys in long-distance traveling, too.”

Amelia looked shocked at the possibilities Harry pointed out.

“How did you think of making it fly?” Amelia asked.

“I didn’t,” Harry said with a smile, “Arthur Weasley has a flying Ford Anglia in his barn; he just can’t use it because of a law forbidding the use of magically enchanted Muggle items, which in itself is a nonsensical classification, where is the line? I could argue that a flying car is as magical as a broomstick, and probably a lot comfier for long-distance travel. Sirius had an enchanted motorcycle; I think it is with Hagrid now. Also, it’s another strike against the idea that Muggle technology and magic can’t coexist. They just need to be studied for safety, like anything else.”

“Flying motorcycle,” Amelia smiled. “That is so like him. I would love to see it if I could.”

“I am sure Hagrid would be more than delighted to show you,” Harry smiled back.

Harry got up from the table and walked towards the fridge.

“Do you have a specific craving this morning?” he asked as he pulled out bacon and eggs from the fridge, no matter what Tonks wouldn’t be able to have a good day if she didn’t have a savory breakfast with at least three cups of coffee before anyone talked to her.

“Hmm,” Amelia said, “I think the savory will be a little much, especially the bacon. I also think that yogurt might make me sick. If anything, I do crave something fresh.”

Harry nodded and decided that a fruit smoothie would do the trick for her breakfast, at least in the beginning, he began finding all sorts of frozen fruit in the freezer. He had already found a blender magically enchanted to work without electricity. It only reaffirmed his suspicion that he could make a calculator work. Just because nobody else had done it before him, didn’t mean he wouldn’t succeed. 

The loud noise from the blender smashing together frozen berries and fruit woke Tonks, who five minutes later when the noise had fully woken her, stumbled into the kitchen. As per reflex, Harry levitated a large mug of coffee over to her, and she nodded at him and began sipping the hot beverage with a satisfied smile on her lips.

Her mug was at least two times the size of a normal mug with a joke text saying _It is only one cup_. Tonks had found this hilarious when she spotted it on one of her trips with Harry last summer. She had more or less only used that since it was bought. She loudly sniffed as the smell of bacon wafted throughout the kitchen. If she had been a puppy she would be salivating all over the table by now. 

Harry handed Amelia a tall glass filled with a berry smoothie, it had a fresh taste and just enough nutrition to serve as a small breakfast to get her started. 

“Thank you, Harry,” she smiled at him as she sipped on it. “It’s delicious.”

“That’s good,” Harry smiled as he continued to fry the eggs in the pan, sunnyside up. He placed a large plate filled with beans on toast, bacon, and fried eggs in front of Tonks, who was ravenously wolfing it down like she hadn’t eaten since last week. 

Harry sat down with his own breakfast, which was smaller in size and more varied. He remembered the first time he had tried to serve Tonks anything vaguely healthy in the morning. He would never make that mistake again; she had looked at him like he was a maniac, and promptly decided to leave all of her vegetables to the side without even touching them. She really acted like a spoiled little girl at times, but that was okay. He didn’t mind pleasing Nymphadora “Bottomless Pit” Tonks, a nickname that she didn’t appreciate even after her third mug of coffee.

Harry sat back in his chair and stretched.

“Are you alright?” Amelia asked with a concerned frown.

“Yeah, _yeah_ ,” Harry tried to convince himself more than the other two at the table.

“Harry, when did you wake up?” Amelia looked at him straight.

“Don’t know,” Harry said honestly. “I didn’t check the time before you got up, Auntie.”

“Not going to let you off just because you call me Auntie,” Amelia said with a concerned smirk. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah..” Harry admitted, “but it’s okay. I will take care of it, there is no reason to bother either of you with my…”

“Will you stop saying ‘troubles’?” Amelia looked livid. “You make it sound like an inconvenience, not a serious consequence of what’s happened.”

“Sorry…” Harry muttered to himself staring into his mug filled with tea.

“Harry James Potter -- ” A string of memories filled his mind, Hermione would always use his full name when he was in trouble, “you bother us way more by keeping everything secret than by telling us openly about it.”

Harry sighed. “Three A.M.” 

“What was that?” Amelia asked.

“I woke up at three, I think, I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t check the clock. I just focused on work to force out the aftermath of the nightmare.”

He felt a familiar hand ruffle his head, he looked over at Amelia and felt his eyes grow a little itchy. _What am I? A water fountain?_ Harry chided himself inwardly. _At some point, you have to run out of tears._

He ducked away from the hand after a second. Not that it seemed to bother Amelia all that much. She wasn’t the hugging sort, much. 

Harry got up from the table and walked towards his books and notes lying in a large stack on the counter. He picked them up and moved to the living room table. 

“I’m going to need a desk,” he muttered to himself as he once more opened the books to read and plan.

Amelia was looking at him with appraising eyes. Tonks, who was halfway through her third mug of coffee was looking at him as well. She had heard what he had said, even if she didn’t speak up about it.

Harry quickly got back into a rhythm of tuning out any interference from others as he scribbled on pieces of parchment. He felt like he was going around in circles when he decided to get up and pick up his Arithmancy textbooks to support his calculations. He had barely managed to get up to his feet when he stumbled. He hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours, and combined with the pace he had worked for the past seven hours excluding a break for breakfast, he felt the energy drain from his body. 

“Harry!” Tonks exclaimed.

“I’m alright,” Harry said as he regained his footing.

“You are clearly not,” Amelia said, “put down your work, take a shower and go rest again. Tonks will bring back a Goblin Contractor by the time you are awake.”

Harry shook his head.

“I haven’t finished the Arithmancy calculations yet,” he said stubbornly.

“And how many mistakes will you make in this state?” Amelia looked at him pointedly.

Harry ruffled his hair in frustration, He knew that his concentration was failing. The last page of notes had been absolute nonsense even to him. He was fairly sure that even without the calculations, that rune-cluster would probably end up blowing up in his face if he decided to carve it. 

“Fine,” Harry surrendered, “I’ll go take a shower. _Accio Towel.”_ A towel flew into his hands and he put down his wand on top of his notes. “See, no wand.”

Amelia felt equally bemused and exasperated at the mockingly-casual stabs of annoyance Harry sent out. Still, she was firm in her decision that he was not to be left unsupervised with his wand, at least not until he was much better. 

Harry stalked out of the kitchen and they heard the door to the bathroom open and close behind him. 

“What is he working on?” Tonks asked.

“Oh, he found some limitations of his extension charm, not realising that what he has done already is impressive for wizards of any age, so he decided to address the instability with rune carvings,” Amelia couldn’t hide a hint of pride when she talked about it.

“But isn’t that N.E.W.T. level stuff,” Tonks looked surprised.

“Actually, the plans he has would be post-N.E.W.T.-level,” Amelia rubbed her forehead, “The boy is completely skewed in his learning– in some parts he is far past anyone, and in others, he doesn’t have the slightest clue. What kind of kid can do transfiguration and charms and runes on this level, but has no idea about basic self-transfiguration? Minerva would have my head if she knew what he was up to.”

Tonks couldn’t help herself from giggling at that. She then frowned.

“Why didn’t he ask for help if he’s still plagued by nightmares?” she said in a small voice, “Am I not good enough?”

“Don’t be silly,” Amelia took her hand in her own, “It’s nothing like that. He probably just wants to deal with this on his own and not rely on anyone. He’s afraid that if he relies on you like that, he might find you dead because he firmly believes he brings dangers to others.”

“He doesn’t though,” Tonks argued.

“Really?” Amelia lifted a single eyebrow, “I think it is quite astute of him actually. He certainly appears to bring a lot of danger to the people around him.”

“But it is not his fault.”

“I never said it was,” Amelia squeezed the young witch's hand, “I’m just saying, it is the reality of the situation. Harry does bring danger to the people around him. You can handle yourself, but imagine if he was hanging out with people his own age, with…”

“Hermione.” Tonks finished feeling a large lump in her throat. She bit the knuckles on her free hand. 

“Go on, after he takes a shower the bathroom is free, and then you can head to Gringotts,” Amelia said. “It would help his work if he could get a Goblin’s opinion on it.”

Tonks nodded and seemed to regain something of a smile.

“Good,” Amelia sat back, “I need to ask him to transfigure me a more comfortable seat, preferably a reclined armchair… with a footstool. Yes, that would be nice,” Amelia mused as she was already planning how to spend her days, “Oh, by the way, I’ll try to make a list of reading material for him to study during the summer. He wants to get stronger, so he doesn’t feel the pain anymore, and I have an excess amount of time on my hands. I’m really not moving around too much at the moment.”

“Is it really…” Tonks was looking for her own words.

“Hard? Tough? Impossible, being pregnant?” Amelia asked with a smile.

“Well, yeah,” Tonks blushed.

“Yes, it is that tough but also that much more rewarding, especially when the little one kicks -- Hoooo....” Amelia took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“What? Is something wrong?” Tonks panicked.

“When you speak of the Grim, it appears…” Amelia quoted with a smile. “Come closer.”

Tonks raised from her chair and moved to Amelia’s side.

“Give me your hand, they are having a field day right now,” Amelia said raising her hand towards Tonks, who looked apprehensive at the thought, she reluctantly gave her hand and Amelia quickly moved it to her stomach.

Tonks felt the pushback of something against her palm. Her eyes widened in surprise. 

“This…” 

“Yes, that is the little bugger kicking their dear old mum with the force of a troll,” Amelia smiled, “It is amazing don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Tonks gulped, there was something glowing about Amelia as she sat there cursing at her own child for kicking her. She couldn’t help rubbing her own flat stomach thinking about being pregnant on her own…

 _Stop that train of thought right now,_ she interrupted herself. 

She heard the water in the bathroom stop and moved towards it just in time to catch a glimpse of Harry walking into his bedroom only wearing a towel.

_Don’t let it bother you, you lose if it bothers you. He’s here for protection by you, not from you. Still, a girl can dream… but, she shouldn’t._

She replayed the mantra in her head as she moved to take her own shower. The temperature of the shower was distinctly colder than when Harry had used it. 

Harry laid down in bed, his mind assembling rune clusters and dissembling them again, trying out new combinations, taking into account which reactions he would get if he actually carved them and triggered them. He felt the exhaustion creep up on him, but he was fighting against it fiercely. He didn’t want to have the nightmares again. He heard a knock on the door.

He was torn between wanting it to be Tonks and wanting it not to be Tonks. It wasn’t.

Amelia was standing in the door, looking at him with concern.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked.

“Yeah,” lied Harry.

“Trying to not sleep?” she asked with a hint of accusation.

Harry just looked away. _She's got my number alright,_ he thought.

“Bingo,” he heard her chuckle as she waddled gracelessly towards the bed and sat down on the side of it. “Tonks has left for Gringotts. She will likely be a few hours, so you really should sleep. If you don’t do it now, I _will_ look for a way to get you administered _Draughts of Dreamless Sleep_ until you are at least physically rested. Though they can be quite addictive.”

Harry looked at her and nodded. He had been required to take the potion on multiple occasions by this point in his life and he had to reluctantly admit that they were effective to give him some rest. 

He laid down on his back, and he felt his Auntie's hand running through his hair, which was soothing. He had never really felt this sort of motherly affection, and it was making his chest tight, but it also satisfied him at the same time. 

Amelia watched as the frail kid in front of her fell into a deep slumber, and she kept sitting there running her hand through his hair as he slept. The boy was a lot of trouble, but she felt so satisfied taking care of Sirius’ kid. He was a good boy, the makings of a good man. He was just dealt a bad hand, a worse hand than anyone deserved. 

She got off the bed when she was sure Harry had fallen completely asleep. Her back was hurting once more. _I really have to have the kid make me a recliner_ , she thought to herself with a grimace. 

Tonks had arrived at Gringotts with the letter clutched in her hand. She felt nervous like she was doing something she shouldn’t have. Well, the letter was bearing the Bones crest, so it would be easy to find… What was his name again?

She walked through the front door. She had made her hair the same sort of untamed black that Harry sported, though her eyes were hazel. She hadn’t felt the need to change them as much as she did before. It was like she didn’t want to change them. 

“Yes, miss?” the Goblin teller looked at her with a suspicious eye.

“Erm --” Tonks hesitated.

“Speak up, time is money.”

“I have a letter for the Bones’ account manager,” she spoke quickly.

“Do you now?” the Goblin teller looked at her suspiciously.

She flashed the letter showing the crest to the Goblin, who noticed it was the authentic seal of Amelia Black née Bones. 

“Wait a minute,” he growled as he walked off his plinth and back into the depths of the Gringotts bank.

Tonks stood there fidgeting as she waited.

She spotted the same Goblin Teller walking back in the company of a grey speckled older Goblin, who looked like he had a higher status based on his fancier clothes. 

“Name’s Gnarlock, who’re you?” the older Goblin said.

“Tonks,” she said.

“Ah, I see, that would explain it, follow me,” Gnarlock snarled as he led her down a series of hallways until they arrived at his office, there was a gold plaque on the outside of the door:

Gnarlock Bonegnasher  
Senior Account Manager

Tonks shuddered at the last name on the plaque, she had listened enough in Professor Binns’ classes to know that Goblin’s had a habit of getting last names based on their deeds rather than inheriting their parents’. 

“Sit,” he snarled as he sat down in his own adorned seat behind an exquisite mahogany desk. 

Tonks had never dealt well with the intimidation which seemed like an innate trait to all Goblins, especially the ones who had seen battle in the depths of their nation. 

“I have been informed that you have a letter addressed to me.”

“Yes!” Tonks quickly handed him his letter.

“There is no reason to be scared of me,” Gnarlock said.

“I would be foolish not to,” Tonks regained a little of her Auror spirit, “I know enough about Goblins to fear one with the name Bonegnasher.”

Gnarlock stopped opening the letter for a second. He looked up, a ferocious grin revealed on his face. 

“Very true,” he admitted as he looked back down to the letter now on his hands. 

Tonks sat nervously in silence.

“The letter is authentic,” Gnarlock said. “Why are you the one to bring it?”

“Madam Black is quite pregnant at the moment,” Tonks admitted.

“I see,” Gnarlock said, “Well, she has formalized everything needed for the procedures and her signature is magically enforced, so it has not been faked. The payment will be taken in full from the Bones’ vault, and it says the location is under a fidelius charm. That could pose a problem.”

“I am the Secret Keeper,” Tonks said quickly.

“So that is the reason for your presence,” Gnarlock nodded. “Well let me call for a contractor experienced in extension charms and arcane architecture.” 

Tonks nodded, inwardly feeling relieved that it went as well as it did.

“Am I to assume that Harry Potter will be present at the location?” Gnarlock asked.

“Why?” Tonks frowned.

“Nothing,” Gnarlock shrugged, trying to hide a greedy smile. “Personal interest of mine.”

“Quite.”

Gnarlock sent a measured gaze towards her from across the table, before he got up.

“Follow me,” he said as he moved towards the door. 

He prided himself on reading people, but there was something unusual about the young witch behind him, which he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He was certain she was keeping a secret, but he had no idea what it was and he was intrigued by the fact that he hadn’t been able to even gain a clue.

Gnarlock walked down the hall to where the craftsmen were stationed in their own department of Gringotts. It was primarily a bank, but the Goblin Nation had departments on the premises for other types of work. 

Gnarlock knocked on a large oaken door and waited for it to open. Tonks looked up at the massive door, which made even the doors to the Great Hall at Hogwarts look small in comparison.

“Is this really necessary?” she found herself asking.

“No,” Gnarlock grinned, “but don’t tell the craftsmen that. They are rather proud of their work.”

Tonks nodded her head.

The door opened slowly and soon Gnarlock walked through to the other side. They arrived in a large workshop, which would make the whole of Diagon Alley look tiny in comparison.

Tonks’s eyes widened.

“But how?” she asked without thinking.

“Trade Secret,” an even older completely white-haired Goblin said as he hobbled over to them.

“Bonegnasher,” the elderly Goblin said.

“Silverfinger,” Bonegnasher nodded.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, barbarian,” Silverfinger asked.

“We have been hired to do contract work, Amelia Black née Bones, extension of a flat. Three floors, enough stability for later re-design, money taken from the Bones’ vault.” Gnarlock said in quick succession. 

“I see, what about protection?” Silverfinger scratched his chin as a greedy look filled his face.

“High enough to go by unnoticed, fidelius charm, she is Secret Keeper, it’s a one Goblin job and they may have to return to the nation for the next several years,” Gnarlock said.

“I see,” Silverfinger said, “All secret and protective.”

“Gold is always right,” Gnarlock said.

“Indeed,” Silverfinger said seriously, “Gold is always right. I have just the Goblin, young one, he is technically only here on experience, but his work is solid and he has to go back to the Nation to resume his studies before Midsummer Eve. The price will be cheaper, too.”

Gnarlock looked at Tonks, it was her decision in the end. She nodded but didn’t interfere in the discussions. It was better to not say anything than say the wrong thing.

“Bring him,” Gnarlock said. 

Silverfinger nodded and quickly moved them towards a certain workbench where a young Goblin was sitting working on some runes and architectural designs.

“This here is Thordrum, no last name yet,” Silverfinger said.

“I see,” Gnarlock nodded. It was a difference in status, having a last name or not. 

“You have a client,” Silverfinger said to the young Goblin, who had honestly looked a little bored before they came.

“What is it, boss?” Thordrum said.

“Single floor flat extended into a three-floor: stabilize the space and help with the redesign of it. Protection runes around the perimeter as well,” Silverfinger said. “Place is under a fidelius, so you will have to leave for the Nation after your job.”

Thordrum nodded.

A month on the surface would probably not have netted him any other jobs, and this one sounded like a solo one, so he would have free rein to experiment.

“Well, if that was everything?” Gnarlock grinned. “Thordrum, follow.”

Tonks watched as the young Goblin packed up his tools and followed them out of the workshop.

“How long have you been on the surface?” Gnarlock asked the younger Goblin.

“I am at the end of my five-year apprenticeship,” Thordrum replied.

“Who is your master builder?” 

“I have studied under Ohlog Bricklayer,” Thordrum answered.

“Respectable fellow,” Gnarlock nodded. “He is qualified.”

Tonks, who hadn’t understood what was going on until this moment, just nodded.

They moved to the Entrance Hall of Gringotts.

“Excuse me Mr. Thordrum, do you mind side-along?” Tonks asked politely.

“Heeeh…” Thordrum looked confused.

Gnarlock snickered to himself.

“Oh it is entirely alright if it is offensive,” Tonks pulled back as soon as she had suggested it.

“No, no, it is no problem, Miss,” Thordrum said.

“Thordrum, you are to report to me and Silverfinger upon your return–I take priority, as Time is Money,” Gnarlock pointed out.

“Time is Money,” Thordrum repeated solemnly.

“Shall we?” Tonks extended her hand, and Thordrum put his long fingers on top of it.

She twisted and soon, they stood in the middle of the living room at Carnaby Street.

Thordrum looked around and spotted Amelia lying on a sofa.

“Madam Bones,” he bowed.

“Actually Madam Black now. Also, don’t stand on ceremony, _Time is Money_ after all,” Amelia said, waving her hand around. “The floor plans are in the kitchen, most of the extension charmwork is done, but they are unstable and cannot stand much further load of magic.”

Thordrum nodded once more as he walked to the kitchen.

“Where is _he_?” Tonks asked.

“Sleeping,” Amelia said with a frown. “I am thinking about getting a supply of _Draughts of Dreamless Sleep_. I know it doesn’t solve the issue, but it does help with the symptoms.”

Tonks nodded. She didn’t like using them for a multitude of reasons, the biggest one being Moody’s warning about it.

_How would I know if someone snuck up on me if I am in a potion induced sleep?_

Tonks had, therefore, felt apprehensive towards the potions, but she understood why Amelia was considering them. No good spotting someone sneaking up on you if you’re too exhausted to respond.

Thordrum was looking over the floor designs and quickly muttering notes to himself in Gobbledygook. 

“Hmm, these should be doable without much trouble,” he said scratching his chin.

“Show him the upper floors,” Amelia said as she struggled to sit up, “I apologize for not doing it myself, but as you can see...” She pointed to her ponderous belly. She was no expert in pregnancy or babies, but she seemed to be just huge even for someone at her point in the pregnancy.

“This way.” Tonks led him through to the hallway where the spiral staircase led up towards the next floor.

“Impressive,” Thordrum muttered to himself, as he ran a hand across the transfiguration. 

“Yes, I thought so,” Tonks nodded as she headed up. They arrived on the next floor, which had the same area, but there were some parts of it that looked stretched in different dimensions, as Harry had not limited himself to a direct vertical expansion. 

Thordrum went up to the third floor by himself, but it was pretty much similar. She heard him muttering and making small, appreciative sounds under his breath as he clambered down the stairs.

“I see, I see… We definitely need to stabilize the space so that the rest of the construction can move forward. I have some details to finalize. I would not have recommended removing the bathroom on the first floor. Would have saved some money, but it says here that is a customer requirement? Easy enough to fix, just time. I can easily stabilize four rooms and a bathroom on the second floor, and the third floor needs only reinforcement runes, magic absorption properties, and noise-canceling properties. I would recommend framing in a door, but it should be possible to exclude sound in a marked area around the staircase.” Thordrum went on.

Tonks stood, a little overwhelmed, nodding hesitantly.

“I think it might be better if the Boss made those decisions–it is her money after all,” Tonks said, a little overwhelmed.

Thordrum sent her a ferocious grin quite similar to the one Gnarlock sent her at Gringotts. 

_Definitely a Goblin thing,_ she thought as they went back downstairs.

“So, is it doable?” Amelia asked, sitting with a book on the couch. 

“Absolutely, Madam Black,” Thordrum said, “Quite impressive charms work, I might add, but it has been extended to the limit without folding in on itself. That would be... unadvisable.”

“I see,” Amelia sent him a small smile. Tonks recognized this as her “Patient Listening Face.” She had used it with Tonks and Harry both.

“I think it would be best to stabilize the space with Runework. I can set up a barrier for sound around the staircase to nullify the intensity of sound from the training floor. 

“I don’t think that should be necessary, but dampening the sound might help, it should only be one-way though, I want to be able to communicate from downstairs to upstairs.”

“I would also advise against removing the bathroom on the lowest floor, I can redesign it to look differently, but it would be … inconvenient for you in your current --”

“No,” Amelia said firmly. “Not negotiable. That space is to be stripped and folded. You’ll just need new fixtures for the master bedroom, an en suite. I want nothing reused from that room.”

“Understood,” Thordrum nodded. _Clients_ , he thought. _Well, Gold is always right..._

Thordrum’s musings were interrupted by the opening of a door behind him. He turned around as did the two witches.

Harry had been woken up by the sound of people talking in the living room, but he felt more refreshed than he had before his nap. He had put on his glasses and jeans once more and walked out. 

He was a little surprised to see the Goblin standing in the room, but it only took a moment for him to admit that he might indeed have been in over his head. He was curious about what the expert would say regarding his work so far.

“Hello,” he said as he walked out into the room.

“Thordrum, Harry. Harry, Thordrum. Thordrum has been sent by the Goblin Nation to advise and assist with the extensions,” Amelia said from her couch.

Thordrum was a little starstruck when he spotted the all-too-familiar black hair and lightning scar. Even though the Goblin Nation had rigidly defined interaction with Wizarding Britain, they still knew about Harry Potter, and what he had done during the previous terror of He Who Must Not Be Named.

“He was complimenting you on your charm work,” Amelia smirked.

“Thank you, Thordrum,” Harry said politely with a little bow.

“Harry Potter, it is an honour,” Thordrum finally regained his wits. “Wait, _his_ charm work?” 

“Indeed,” Amelia got a kick out of flustering the Goblin. They were master crafters, but they could be so damned smug about it, too.

“Impressive indeed,” Thordrum said. 

“I was actually planning to do the runes myself,” Harry ruffled his hair, “but I got stuck on some of the interactions between the different runes. I would love some advice on them.”

Thordrum looked shocked, he had expected the boy to be arrogant after seeing his already impressive work, but the fact that he had understood himself that runework was the next step was admirable indeed. Goblins didn’t always respect wizards, but they always respected a craftsman. 

Harry went and gathered his notes and handed them to Thordrum.

The goblin took the pile of parchment and quickly gave it a look, only to be repeatedly shocked by the ingenuity of the combinations. A few of them were straight-up unfeasible and would never work, but some of the theories lined up impressively closely to his own. Even the mistakes showed only a lack of experience, rather than a lack of imagination.

Harry went to the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water, and by the time he came back, there was a series of parchments on the floor around the Goblin.

“These will never work,” Thordrum said as he indicated the very areas that Harry had been troubling over.

“I see,” Harry nodded regretfully. “I admit, I think I sort of ground to a halt trying to resolve these.”

“These, however,” Thordrum shook the three pieces of parchment in his hand, “these are workable, and a few are really elegant. As good as any a goblin might do, even.”

“I see,” Harry smiled feeling relieved that all of his hard work hadn’t been a complete waste of time. “I was thinking that we should open up the part of the floor on the second floor above the living room, it will allow for easier communication between the floors for Auntie, and it would open up the space. There should be enough room for three bedrooms and a bathroom if we chose to do that. The training area probably needs to be reinforced to withstand most curses and spells, as I will need it for my training.” 

“Good choices,” Thordrum’s eyes were lit up. “We had just agreed to totally reconfigure the downstairs bathroom. It was removed from the original plan. We could open that space if you like.”

Harry sent a questioning look towards Amelia, who was keeping a neutral expression on her face. He thought for a moment about the bathroom, and how it had felt every time he had been forced to use it. He thought of Tonks and her admission of how scared she had been...

“We’ll fold it,” Harry said firmly. He caught Tonks’s eye, and she gave him a quick, appreciative nod. “We’ll add a full bath to the master suite. We can align it under the bath upstairs to simplify plumbing. Two upstairs bedrooms will connect through that bath, plus a door to the hall, and the third bedroom closest to the stairs on the opposite side. Maybe a small office space if we can find a spot for it.” 

Harry and Thordrum spent the afternoon discussing and planning all of the work needed to be done over the next couple of days. Amelia had a satisfied look on her face as she sometimes spotted Harry with an expression that closely resembled a child getting a new Christmas toy. 

“It’s getting late,” Amelia interrupted their discussion and planning.

“Ah, Thordrum, would you like to stay for dinner?” Harry asked as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Thordrum looked taken aback. He had not expected this.

“No, no,” he shook his head. “I will come back tomorrow with Miss Tonks and we can get down to actually carving runes and further transfiguring the space.”

He got up, snapped his finger, and disapparated. Harry gathered the drawings and diagrams and packed them away before beginning to cook.

“You looked like you had fun,” Tonks said as she walked up next to him. “Want any help?” 

“It would be great if you’d set the table,” Harry said, putting his head on her shoulder. “Thank you, Tonks.”

“For what?” she found herself tensing up.

“For bringing me an interesting new fellow to work with. I must admit I had gotten rather stuck by the time Auntie sent me to bed earlier,” Harry said with a wry smile. “I’m almost sixteen and she still decides my bedtime.”

Tonks laughed aloud at that, and her grin was so wide that her cheeks eclipsed her hazel eyes, a pair of crescent moons. 

“I will decide your bedtime as long as you can’t manage it yourself,” Amelia teased.

“Fine, fine,” Harry lifted his hands in mock surrender. “How was your day, Auntie? Everything alright?”

“Yes, quite,” Amelia said. “I do have a request though. Could you transfigure me a comfortable recliner, preferably one where the back is easily adjustable? The little one is rather unhappy when I squash them.”

“Of course, Auntie,” Harry smiled at her, “and thanks for letting me do this, I needed _something_ to do when I am cooped up like this.”

“You’re welcome,” Amelia sent him a warm smile. 

Harry quickly finished up dinner and even made her recliner that evening. It was probably harder than extending the flat into three floors, not because of the magic, but Amelia took forever until she was finally satisfied with the quality of the armchair. 

“Sheesh,” Harry teased, “you are working me harder than a niffler looking for gold. Has it occurred to you that at some point, the discomfort is not the furniture’s fault?”

Amelia and Tonks both laughed at that. The boy seemed to have astonishing focus when he wanted something done, so they didn’t believe for a second that he had wanted to give up halfway through.

Harry spent the next couple of days working side by side with Thordrum. He felt his understanding of practical runes was rising by the hour, as Thordrum actually took the time to explain his craft. Harry was a keen listener, and by the time they had finished stabilizing the third floor, Thordrum allowed Harry to carve the reinforcement runes himself.

Harry sat down to work and soon found himself immersed in the process, and he hadn’t realized just how late it had gotten when Tonks called him downstairs for dinner. Thordrum had not taken him up on the invitation, no matter how many times it was extended towards him. 

It didn’t stop Harry from trying, but he knew when to quit every time. 

“No luck seducing Thordrum tonight either?” Amelia teased.

“No, he really likes for me to chase him,” Harry fired back as he sat down at the table. 

“Well, some people are just hard to get,” Amelia said.

Amelia decided not to notice the little disparaging sound from Tonks at the words _hard to get_. 

“So when will you be done?” Amelia asked. “Susan arrives the day after tomorrow.”

“I think we’ll have all of the essential runes carved by tomorrow at noon, and I will spend the afternoon dividing the upstairs floor into separate spaces. Thordrum will work on your new bathroom downstairs. I can’t do much about the inventory for the bedrooms. Tonks and I have rooms that are reasonably furnished, so that isn’t hard. I can paint Susan’s room in any way she likes, but I can’t do much about the furniture.”

“I’ll have Thordrum bring basics for every room from storage on the day after tomorrow,” Amelia said “You can always help Susan with transfiguring the furniture into her desired forms when she arrives.”

“Excellent,” Harry said. “Also, with the bath separating the rooms on one side, there is enough space on the other, by Susan’s room, to make a study. If we put in some desks, then Susan and I will have a place where we can do our homework or read. We can charm up a bed to fold down in the study, as a guest room for when Ginny comes to visit, for example.” 

Harry smirked at that last part.

“So, it won’t be needed then,” Amelia said archly.

“Hopefully, it will be needed after all of this is over, though,” Harry said with a sad smile. “Like, when Tonks decides to bring over guests or something, they can’t all stay in her bed—”

“ _Nobody stays in my bed_!” Tonks flushed red in the face and the tips of her hair. 

“—room,” Harry finished.

Amelia and Harry laughed out loudly, which only extended the redness to Tonks’s hair down to her ears. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohana means family, and family means nobody is left behind.
> 
> A brief scene that connects larger pieces of the story, with some dandy jinxing and a bit of plot development as we check in with the other DA members: Susan Bones, Ginny and Ron, Neville, and Luna.
> 
> • Tonks arrives at the station.
> 
> • Malfoy attempts to bully the DA and regrets it.
> 
> • Luna is... creative.
> 
> • Three rabbits.

**Chapter 4.** **Interlude: Ohana**

Tonks had been glad to get out of the Carnaby Street flat, though it couldn’t really be called a flat anymore, not with four bedrooms, two full baths, and its own training hall. She shrugged, and just thought of it as Carnaby Street. Whatever you called it, it had been crazy the last several days.

Between Amelia, still sending and receiving classified owls from the Ministry as she wrapped up her commitments there, members of the Order checking in with corporeal Patronuses, and Harry and the Goblin apprentice literally moving walls around, it had not been a restful place. She had spent more than one night on the uncomfortable couch, and another on a pallet of blankets on the bare floor of the training hall, about six feet from where Harry took a potion-enhanced rest on his blankets. She had slept very little.

Worse, she had finally gotten a reply after reaching out to Reagan Hill, and he had sent her a brief, brittlely polite response. She still was deeply conflicted about what had happened at his mother’s Christmas party, and the intervening six months did not seem to have improved much between them. His sister Sally had actually reached out more recently than Reagan had, wondering if it was possible Tonks might still see her and her family again at some point. Tonks had few friends, really, and it was tempting to take them up on the offer.

She was happy, now, to be waiting at the station to collect Susan, and to say hello to the other DA members who had been in on her rescue party. As she waited for the train, she nodded off on the station bench, her chin slowly sinking to her chest.

_____________________________________________

Susan, Ginny, Luna, and Neville were sharing a compartment on the Express as it flew through the countryside towards London. Ron, who for the last week had been made Acting Prefect, had checked in before they left but had not been back to the compartment since. Apparently, the recent drama had put lots of students, especially the younger kids, on edge and there was an unusual amount of mischief, pranks, and even bullying going on aboard the train this trip.

“How do you reckon Harry’s getting on?” Neville asked quietly, so as not to wake Luna. 

Luna, who had been telling him about her dreams of exploring the world in search of magical creatures, had fallen asleep in mid-story once the train had started rocking along the rails. While everyone except Hermione had more or less recovered and had been released to school for the end of term, none of them were unscathed. Neville had a red scar through his lower lip that was fading very slowly. Ginny still limped after any real exertion, despite the healed bones in her ankle. Luna suffered from frequent headaches and seemed particularly delicate. Only Susan refused to admit to any injury, though she had become hyper-vigilant about Ginny and watched over her like a hawk.

“Tonks says he’s as good as can be expected,” Susan shrugged. “Not sure what that means, really.”

“Is it going to be weird, living with him?” Neville asked gently.

“She not living with him,” Ginny said a bit possessively. “She’s living with her aunt. Tonks and Harry will just… be there.”

“It’s all right, Ginny,” Susan said contemplatively. “I don’t really remember having a proper family, not like you, you know, mum and dad and brothers. It’s just been me and my aunt.”

Neville got a cool expression and looked out the window as the countryside blurred past in the dim light. “I understand. I imagine a lot of people our age understand.”

Ginny said softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take my family for granted or anything… It’s just, well, it’s a new idea for me. Never really thought about it much before.”

Susan patted her on the knee and gave a comforting squeeze.

“I wish I could tell you all more about where we’ll be and all the details, but I’m Not Allowed,” Susan said with a little bitterness, and perhaps indulging in a bit of self-pity. “Security, and all that. Auntie says there will be one owl we can use if it’s not too often.”

“Ron knows,” Ginny said suddenly. “He went to… the place… Bloody fidelius charms… You know where I mean. Anyway, he went there with Harry, their fourth year. He said if there is a real emergency he could go back. He just can’t show it to any of us.”

“Well, that’s something,” Neville said. “I heard back from my gran. She pestered St. Mungo’s and got an official report on Hermione. I meant to say, but I just heard before we left.”

“What is it, what did you hear?” Ginny and Susan leaned forward, intently.

“Well, they’ve managed to stabilize her memories, what she has. Apparently, there was a danger her whole, what do you call it, her psyche would just unravel, but they think that’s not going to happen.”

“She _belongs_ in Gryffindor,” Ginny said fiercely. “She’s going to fight this. What else?”

“Well, apparently there's some hope that—”

The door to the compartment banged open, and there stood Draco Malfoy and his guardian idiots, Crabbe and Goyle. They still looked insufferably smug and self-satisfied, though they were conspicuously missing their Inquisitorial Squad badges, now something very much of the past.

“We found the new rubbish compartment, gentlemen,” mocked Draco, lounging presumptively in the doorway.

“Let’s see,” he went on, his voice dripping scorn, “a Weasley. Not full size, this one. Best throw her back. A pair of orphans, and Little Lunatic Lovegood. I miss the black eyes she had last week. Livened up that moon face a bit, didn’t they?”

Neville gripped his wand out of sight of Draco, but Susan gave him a slight shake of the head.

“Oh, speaking of orphans, little Suzie Bones, how’s that quitter of an aunt of yours? Left the ministry to go off into the woods and have Sirius Black’s pup yet? Or did she die of a broken heart, making you an orphan twice?”

Ginny made to stand up, but the sudden weight on her ankle made her hiss in a breath, as Susan put a hand on her arm. Susan wanted to hex Malfoy through a wall, but she felt her friends had been through enough. Malfoy was a turgid slug of a wizard, but he was quick with a curse and had two henchmen who made up in brutality whatever they might lack in brains.

“Why don’t you go pull the wings off flies or whatever creeps like you do for fun, Malfoy?” Susan gritted out through clenched teeth.

Malfoy aimed his wand suddenly at Susan, and they all flinched involuntarily. 

“Make us, you filthy cu—”

“— _ebublio lapifors!”_ Luna’s clear, calm voice sang out suddenly before Malfoy could finish his vile taunt.

The compartment was illuminated with a gold and silver bolt of eldritch lightning, forking into three branches before striking Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe in their chests. There was a brief nimbus of sparks that arced and flickered over their bodies for a split second before all three were transfigured into white rabbits. One lean, sour-faced bunny and two large, dull-looking rabbits hung in the air, and each was enveloped in a magical bubble. They began to drift lazily on the air currents as the Slytherin boys' robes and wands fell to the ground in heaps.

Everyone turned to Luna in amazement, and she lowered her wand calmly.

“That was… that was amazing,” Neville said in an awed whisper.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” Luna noted calmly. “There’s ever so much I want to do with this one, and I won’t see you damaged. Are we nearly there?”

Ginny started laughing and pointing. The rabbit Malfoy was attempting to run, but it just made the impenetrable magic bubble spin in place the faster he went, like a mouse on a wheel. The Crabbe and Goyle rabbits just cowered miserably in their bubbles, their whiskers drooping and their ears flat against their heads.

“Oy, what’s all this then?” Ron came running, stopping to look at the bubbles, the rabbits, the wands, and the green-trimmed Slytherin robes. He raised his eyebrows.

“Hello, bruv,” Ginny said with a grin. “No trouble back here. How’s the rest of the train?”

“Erm, fine?” Ron edged around the floating rabbits and leaned into the compartment.

“We’re nearly there. If you're changing into Muggle clothes or charming your robes, best do it now.” Ron looked to Susan and Ginny, two of the better jinxers he knew. He nodded to the rabbits in their bubbles. “Your work?”

“That was all Luna,” Neville said proudly.

“Well, we’ve got about eight minutes or so until the station. Do you reckon they can breathe okay in there?”

Luna was looking out the window, her arm in Neville’s. She turned around and looked at the three rabbits bobbing around in the air outside their door. She tipped her head to one side.

“I’ve no idea,” she said and turned her unblinking gaze back out the window.

From inside one of the bubbles, a small white bunny began squealing as it rocked back and forth, wide-eyed, looking at Luna Lovegood as it drifted slowly up the corridor with its companions.

______________________________

As the air brakes hissed and squealed, Tonks jerked awake.

“I’m up! I’m up!” She looked around, seeing students already leaving the train. She frantically stood, then hopped up on the bench to see farther.

She saw Molly and Arthur Weasley, who saw her and started pushing and struggling through the crowd in her direction. Just then, she spotted Susan, Neville, and what she assumed were Luna and Ginny, but could not see over the crowd.

“Wotcher, Susan!” she called out. “Hullo, Neville!” 

Just as the group approached, she spotted Ron, who was barely containing laughter as he followed a hurriedly dressed, disheveled Malfoy and his “associates” away from the train. Malfoy looked unusually subdued, and Crabbe and Goyle were both wide-eyed, startling at every sudden move or loud noise. When Ron’s little owl screeched, Goyle looked as if he’d wet himself.

Molly Weasley came rushing towards her children just as Tonks stepped down off the bench. All of the groups arrived more or less together, and the greetings, questions, and leave-takings began.

(Malfoy Bunny, by ReverendKilljoy)


	5. Ice Cold Bribery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bribery is a perfectly legitimate tactic, given the right circumstances.
> 
> • Tonks meets the DA kids and the Weasleys.
> 
> • Susan and Tonks take a detour.
> 
> • The Ice Cream Sisterhood.
> 
> • Harry in training.

**Chapter 5**. **Ice Cold Bribery**

“How is he doing?” Mrs. Weasley asked Tonks as soon as she had reached them all.

 _Not even a ‘Hello’ or a ‘how are you doing?’_ Tonks groaned inwardly.

“He is doing okay, I guess,” Tonks said.

“If he ever becomes too much for you, you can always send him to us at the Burrow,” Molly said.

Tonks couldn’t help herself from feeling vexed at the notion. 

“We are doing just fine, the two of us,” she replied, a little more snarky than she would have liked. 

In the lead of the group of approaching young people was Ginny, walking next to Susan. Ron was catching up half a step behind carrying his tiny owl, which made excited screeching sounds. A little further behind she spotted Neville and Luna holding hands. 

_That’s nice_ , she thought to herself, _wait, where are they going?_

Neville got pulled along by Luna, who was heading straight towards an elderly lady with a vulture on her hat. 

“Ah,” Tonks chuckled to herself when she spotted the pale look on the boy’s face. 

She had to stifle a laugh as she watched Luna introduce herself to Neville’s grandmother. 

As she had sat on the bench earlier, waiting for the train to arrive, Tonks had been dreading the number of questions which would undoubtedly be thrown her way. She couldn’t blame them. Harry wasn’t really all that known for being communicative about himself.

 _The news must have spread all the way to Hogwarts_ , she thought to herself as the younger Weasleys and Susan joined the conversation.

Molly Weasley was still trying to make a point about Harry staying with her family over the summer, while simultaneously embracing her children and fretting over them at the same time, but her husband, ever her buffer, intervened on Tonks’s behalf.

“Molly dear, Tonks is his guardian after all, and he has always loved staying with her,” Arthur said, trying to make her see reason.

“But dear—” Molly had begun.

“It’s not just us for the summer,” Tonks had said, “Amelia and Susan will be with us too. Among the three of us, I think we are more than capable of taking care of Harry.”

“But Amelia is busy taking care of her pregnancy, and Susan is only just sixteen,” Molly had argued.

“That is exactly the point, isn’t it?” Susan interjected. She did not like being talked about as if she were not present, and would not take it from anyone. “We’re not little children anymore.”

Susan was just standing there, looking at Ginny and her mother with a challenging expression.

“Wotcher, Sue,” Tonks said, drawing attention to herself before Molly could start a fresh argument with Susan.

“Hiya, Tonks,” Susan said with a little bit of regret in her voice. 

“Don’t worry, your aunt has already agreed to your request, now it just comes down to the other party,” Tonks smiled at her.

“Really?” Susan looked like someone had told her Christmas came early.

“Yes,” Tonks grinned from ear to ear as she leaned in towards her ear and whispered, “she has even said, _out loud_ , that your friend doesn’t need to use the guest room.”

Her prank had worked perfectly as Susan went completely red in the face.

“She _knows_?” Susan whispered back with a bit of fright.

“She was the head of the DMLE, of course she knows,” Tonks smiled brightly at her.

“How did she … you know?” Susan asked quietly.

“She loves you, and of course she is looking forward to being introduced properly,” Tonks said with a lopsided grin. 

It was like a weight was lifted from Susan’s shoulders.

“I still think you need to have a _talk_ about it though,” Tonks teased.

Susan, who had just calmed down, turned red again.

“What’s going on?” Ginny asked, finally breaking free from her mother’s welcome but overwhelming hugs and affection.

“Ah, nothing,” Tonks said innocently. “We were just talking a little about summer plans.” 

“Oh…” Ginny looked a little sullen.

Tonks was fighting hard to not tease her as well, but she remembered how firmly she had been told to not reveal anything.

Susan leaned in and whispered something in the redhead’s ear which made it seem like her hair was releasing its colour to her face. 

_Ah, she must have told her what I just told her,_ Tonks mused to herself.

Tonks had tried not to flare up, but the specks of red in her hair betrayed her calm.

“Molly, that’s enough,” Arthur said at last, perfectly timed as Molly had paused for breath while also trying to scrub an invisible smudge off of Ron’s face with her hankie. “Harry and Susan can visit during the summer, but it isn’t proper for us to force him to stay with us.” 

Tonks sent him an appreciative glance while she got her emotions under control.

“How’s Harry?” Ron asked, genuinely concerned.

It had been the same since Harry had gone back home. Kingsley had pestered her at the office, Molly would pester her any chance she got and even Remus, who usually felt too shameful because of his lycanthropy had asked about Harry. It was like none of them trusted her to be able to help him, and it was vexing. It wasn’t like they were completely wrong, but Amelia was there too and she had dealt with this stuff a lot more than most. 

Tonks sighed to herself; she would have to talk to Amelia about this, or at least rant about it. She had felt way out of her depth in the beginning, but the last week or so had shown that Harry had gotten a lot better. He would still wake up sometimes during the night, but he was sleeping for longer stretches of time, and the remodelling of the house had been amazing for him to take his mind off of things. Her new bedroom was at least twice the size she’d had before, and she had enjoyed spending an evening after work making him change the colours on the walls over and over again until he had spotted her mischievous glint and had pouted at her. She still chuckled at his reaction.

 _How many times did I make him change the colour again?_ she mused to herself, _it must have been more than twenty times._

“Harry’s fine considering,” Tonks said, gathering her thoughts. “You might be able to see him over the summer, but he needs to be in a protected location. He walks around with a target on his back after all.”

“Nice,” Ron said. “I’ll send an owl.”

“You do that,” Tonks said, as she spotted Luna and Neville approaching, followed by Luna’s father and Madam Longbottom.

“How’s Harry?” Neville asked the same question as Ron had.

“He’s fine,” Tonks repeated, but something in her expression must have betrayed her because Luna frowned at her and tilted her head to one side.

“Tell him he’ll only find what he’s looking for in the last place he looks. That should help.”

“Erm, okay,” Tonks said.

“Well, that’s because he’ll stop looking for whatever it is when he finds it,” muttered Susan, though she still looked at Luna fondly.

“That’s enough, dear,” Mr. Lovegood. “Goodbye!” He hurried along the platform, and his daughter followed as he quickly moved off.

“Goodbye, Neville,” Luna sang over her shoulder.“I shall write to you often.”

“Well, Neville, she is quite an _interesting_ young woman,” his grandmother commented. 

“Right, see you after the summer,” Neville called after Luna, but there was a note of confidence in his voice that made his grandmother peer at him keenly for a moment. 

“Ron, Ginny, we really should be going too,” Mrs. Weasley said, rushing them towards the exit.

“See you soon,” Ginny said towards Susan, who smiled and waved at them.

Tonks and Susan were standing for a bit in silence.

“Can’t be easy,” Tonks said to no one in particular. 

“No, but worth it,” Susan said with pride. “Shall we get going? And where exactly is it that we’re going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Tonks said mischievously.

“Ugh… Auntie warned me about your tendency to play pranks,” Susan groaned.

Tonks began leading Susan towards the underground after diminishing Susan’s trunk and putting it in her pocket. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever taken the underground before,” Susan said as she walked down the steps. 

“It’s a lot better than some of our transport methods, and it is less conspicuous,” Tonks said as she changed her appearance to look like she could be Susan’s mother. She saw Susan eying her queerly. “I hope you don’t mind, but it is just easier to move around if they assume we’re family. Draw less attention.”

“It’s fine, I don’t remember my family that much,” Susan said with a stoic expression.

“Ah…” Tonks sighed. “Sorry. I hadn’t thought bout that. Look, do you want to grab something on the way? I have a fair bit of pocket money to spoil you. Take it as a bribe.”

Susan couldn’t help laughing at the blatant bribery to establish a friendly relationship.

“Hmm…” Susan looked like she was really thinking about it. “I could eat an ice cream.”

“Well then let’s get out of here,” Tonks said, changing her direction. “Know just the place. Did a stakeout there my first year as an Auror, gained six pounds. Red Whizzes, Choc Bombs, Cadbury flake on a cone, the lot.”

“Really?” Susan looked surprised. “Are you serious, we really can?”

“Yes, really,” Tonks smiled at her. “I told you, it’s a bribe. We just can’t be too late, your aunt is getting rather testy. She looks like an overripe mandrake right about now.”

Susan tried to picture the image, but couldn’t help snorting as it appeared in her mind.

“Oh, I never said that,” Tonks said quickly as she realised the consequences if Amelia found out.

“Don’t worry,” Susan said, “It won’t work as blackmail if I tell her.”

Tonks felt a shiver down her spine and looked suspiciously at the young woman beside her.

“I’m kidding,” Susan laughed when she spotted the look on Tonks's face. 

After a brief ride on the underground, they emerged into a nondescript area of London not too far from the far trendier environs of Covent Garden. It was here they entered a branch of Morelli’s, one of the oldest ice cream parlours in Britain.

As Susan goggled at the beautiful Art Deco interior behind the staid facade, she saw the enormous chalkboards listing current specials and flavours of the day.

“Maybe we should bring some extra home for the others,” Suan suggested.

“Well, it might just save you from your Auntie’s wrath,” Tonks agreed.

“That settles it, I am bringing a whole tub.” Tonks looked determined as she picked out a number of flavours. She inconspicuously cast a quick freezing charm on the container, so it wouldn’t melt as they sat down at one of the small tables to enjoy their own selections.

“So, I know this is not what you had expected, but I really hope that we can become friends,” Tonks said as she put her plastic spoon in the cup of Pistachio Madness ice cream. 

“I don’t really mind,” Susan said pensively. “It was just a bit surprising, and the timing was awkward. I guess I had hoped that we could stay at Sirius’s place, all of us.” The last was muttered into her own cup of French vanilla ice cream, from which three different types of candy bar protruded..

“So that you two could have a bit of a romp around?” Tonks teased.

Susan nodded blushing. 

“Well, I know it must suck, but it is for you and your aunt’s protection, not just Harry’s.” Tonks sighed. “She was really afraid that You Know Who would come after her, because of her position at the Ministry. He would be smart to do that, too. She was a great department head.”

“I know,” Susan said, “I think she made the right decision, it’s just…”

“Well, I can see how missing out on that little spitfire of yours would be frustrating,” Tonks laughed.

“How does Harry ever put up with you?” Susan asked with exasperation. 

“Well, he did have a thing for sending stinging jinxes after me and Sirius, when he was younger,” Tonks said in a nostalgic voice.

“I might just need to pick up where he left off, then,” Susan said with a challenging smile, it faded quickly though. “How is Auntie, really? You know with Sirius being …” 

“She puts up a tough front, but you'll catch her sitting with his favourite mug and just idly running her thumb over it, or she will say she is going for a nap, but really she goes off to have a bit of a cry. She’s strong but still human.”

“I know,” Susan said with pride. “She raised me after all.”

“And what a menace you are to all the young witches around,” Tonks teased.

“I shall have you know that I am a perfect gentlewoman,” Susan said in a mock-offended tone.

“I might have believed that if you hadn’t seduced a certain young witch on your aunt’s wedding night,” Tonks continued.

“Oh, he _didn’t_!” Susan gasped. “Harry told you?”

“Oh, yes he did,” Tonks grinned. “And your Aunt, as well.”

“I need to show him just how much he has taught me over the last year,” Susan smiled unmistakably like her aunt when Tonks had pranked someone. Tonks felt a shiver down her back.

“Sorry, Harry,” Tonks said quickly, which made Susan chuckle as they finished up their ice cream.

“Shall we?” Tonks asked, “It is getting close to dinner. I tell you, after eating Harry’s food you will never be able to get your mind away from it again.”

“It’s that good?” Susan sounded surprised.

“If I didn’t know better I would have thought that’s how he managed to get with…” Tonks's smile faded a bit. “Sorry. It’s better if you don’t say her name around him for the time being. He’s struggling with the fact that he is unwelcome with her parents.”

Susan shook her head. “But it isn’t his fault.”

“Of course, it isn't,” Tonks grimaced in frustration, “and I think they know that, too. At least her mother may think so. But no matter what we say, he keeps blaming himself. Also, don’t be scared when you see the kind of training he does over the summer. He lets loose a bit while at Hogwarts, but most of the summer he spends bruised, hurt, or just run to the edge.”

“Why?” Susan asked.

“He tends to blame himself for every failure, and credit his friends and luck for every success.” Tonks dragged her hand through her hair. “You can imagine how what happened at the Ministry hasn’t helped.”

“I guess.”

They returned to the underground and made a change to another line. They spent the rest of the trip to Carnaby Street in silence. It was only ever interrupted by a soft hoot from Susan’s owl.

“This is us,” Tonks said all of a sudden as she rose from her seat.

“Oh,” Susan grabbed the cage and walked out of the station. They walked a couple of blocks until they stood under the arch with the letters _Carnaby Street_ on it. 

“This is Carnaby Street,” Tonks smiled proudly.

“But this street is completely Muggle,” Susan observed quietly, acutely aware that she was carrying a brass cage containing an owl.

“Yeah,” Tonks said, “but that’s the brilliant part of it. Nobody thinks to look for us in the Muggle parts of London.”

She guided Susan down the colourful street until they stood in front of the same pink building she had taken Harry to three summers ago. She handed Susan a slip of parchment.

_Tonks and Harry’s flat is on the 4th floor_

Susan read the parchment.

“Done with it?” Tonks asked.

Susan nodded and handed it back to her and watched as she burned it with what looked like a Muggle lighter. 

“Well, you know how a Fidelius charm works,” Tonks smirked.

Susan looked up at the top of the building and indeed it looked like it was sprouting another floor. 

“I’ll never get tired of watching that,” Susan exclaimed. 

Tonks couldn’t keep an indulgent sound from leaving her mouth at that. “Me, too.”

She pulled open the door and walked upstairs until they were in front of the door to the flat. 

Tonks waved her wand, and the door opened, gesturing for Susan to go through first.

She walked in and was surprised to find her aunt sitting comfortably in a recliner.

“Hey there, dear,” Amelia said as she looked up from her book. 

Susan walked forward to hug her aunt.

“It’s so good to see you,” she murmured into Amelia’s neck.

“It’s good to see you too, how come you’re so late?” Amelia asked.

Susan looked towards Tonks, who was staring innocently at the ceiling. 

“Ah, I see. She bribed you,” Amelia said with a chuckle. “Was it a good bribe?” 

Tonks looked flustered. “I did not–”

“Ice cream,” Susan sold her out immediately.

“I brought extra for everyone,” Tonks said quickly.

“Well if you can go convince Harry that he shouldn’t be mad at you for keeping him waiting while he has been cooking a feast,” Amelia smirked.

“Tonks, that finally you?” The disgruntled voice came from the kitchen.

Susan watched as Tonks's hair was changing all sorts of colour.

“They’re here, Harry,” Amelia looked like she was preparing to watch a great show. “She was bribing Susan with ice cream instead of coming straight home.”

“Now was she indeed?” Harry had a serving fork in his hand and a stern expression. He looked a little like a cartoon devil. He was sporting a most dreadful smile on his face. 

“Come here!” he said firmly, and Tonks slouched towards him, looking down at her feet.

“When I tell you to come straight home, I mean it,” Harry’s voice softened. He could only pretend to be mad at Tonks for so long. “You made me worried for you. Did you take her by the underground instead of Apparating you both?”

“I just wanted to maybe, possibly bribe her a little,” Tonks sounded positively like a kid who was caught doing something she knew she ought not to do.

“I understand,” Harry said as he extended his hand to ruffle her hair. “Just try not to make me worry?”

Tonks's hair would change to pink wherever his hand had touched. 

“I’m sorry,” she said looking guilty.

“It’s alright. Welcome home.” He pulled her into a hug, which instantly turned the rest of her hair into a vibrant pink. She returned the hug. 

Susan didn’t know where to look.

“Hullo...” Amelia said loud enough for them to hear. “Dinner remember?”

“Right,” Harry said, releasing Tonks and moving over to extend his arm to Amelia, who grabbed it to lever herself up from the chair. Susan had not seen many pregnancies, but her aunt seemed huge. She wondered if Sirius maybe had some Giant blood in the family tree.,

Amelia grinned at her niece. “Did you notice the stairs?” She gestured to the spiral staircase at the end of the room.

She crossed to it, looked up, and found that there was a second floor.

“How?” she asked.

“Well Harry and his goblin friend have been working hard on the flat,” Amelia said. “There’s even a third floor above that.”

“Wicked,” Susan said, giving Harry a quick look that was a mixture of impressed and suspicious. Harry scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward. 

“Uhm, the food is getting cold,” Harry said, trying to move the subject to something else. 

Amelia and Tonks laughed at him, but Susan was just confused.

“See, dear?” Amelia said. “Harry’s not good with compliments. He gets all fidgety.”

“I do not!” Harry grumbled, moving briskly towards the kitchen.

Susan joined in on the laughter this time. She had never seen this side of him before. 

They all sat down at the table. Susan had to admit that Tonks had been right. Harry was a spectacular cook.

“This puts Hogwarts food to shame,” she commented.

“I know right?” Tonks smiled her “crescent moon” smile again.

“I am not _that_ good,” Harry tried to explain. 

They all just sent a pitying gaze at him. 

“Fine, fine. I am an adequate cook,” Harry said, deflecting with humour. “Our rooms are on the second floor. I haven’t chosen the colours for the walls yet, since I didn’t know what you would like. Would you like to see?”

Susan nodded and followed him as he left the table.

“So, where does everyone sleep?” Susan asked.

“Auntie, um, your aunt stays on the lowest floor in Sirius’ old room, he lived here with us during the last three summers. Well, technically he wasn’t really around much last summer with the wedding and all,” Harry’s voice was eerily calm. 

Susan took a second to register the meaning of three summers.

“Wait, he stayed here while everyone thought he was a murderer?” 

“Well yeah,” Harry chuckled “Spent the whole summer as a dog.” 

“How did you not know it was him?” Susan asked with raised eyebrows.

“Well, no one knew he was an animagus and even if they knew, I didn’t exactly go around telling people that I had picked up a stray from the nearby park.” Harry shrugged. “Auntie, I mean your aunt–”

“I know you call her Auntie, too,” Susan said, reaching out to put a hand on his arm as he stammered. “I’m getting used to the idea, but it’s okay. You should call her whatever makes sense to you both.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.” He smiled, and for a moment the old confident, happy Harry was there. Then he faded as if a cloud had passed in front of the sun. He went on with his story.

“Anyway, she was furious when he transformed in front of her during the summer before our fourth year. Slapped him straight in the face and then proceeded to snog him.”

“Too much information, Potter,” Susan grimaced.

Harry just laughed at that. “Imagine how I felt. I had to watch it until I could flee the room at least.”

“How are you so alright talking about this?” Susan asked curiously.

“I’m not,” Harry admitted, “It hurts, but the more I focus on the good times the easier it is to bear. Like Auntie said, it is not like he hasn’t left something behind.” He mimicked the pregnant stomach of Amelia.

Susan giggled at that.

“Also, she’s being strong about it for my sake, so the least I can do is be strong for her sake too,” Harry finished solemnly. “This is you.”

Harry opened a door across from the bathroom, to one side of the study. It was a good-sized room with a bed, a closet, and some drawers.

“There's a desk in the study next door for you. I can change pretty much anything if you want,” Harry said.

Susan looked at her bed; she didn’t care about the other furniture.

“Could you make it a little wider?” she muttered quietly.

“Of course,” Harry grinned. “Wouldn’t want poor little Ginny to fall out of it while she sleeps.”

“You are just as bad as Tonks,” Susan reprimanded.

“I am not!” Harry sounded mock-offended. “So, wider? Anything else?”

“I would like for it to have some sort of …” Susan said.

“Some sort of what?” Harry smirked.

“Okay, some sort of you know… fixtures…” Susan mumbled red in her face, vaguely gesturing to the corners of the bed.

“Susan Bones,” Harry chuckled. “Too much information.”

Susan hid her face in embarrassment and by the time she looked up Harry had transfigured her bed into a queen-sized, four-poster bed. 

“So, what about the walls?” Harry asked. 

“Erm—” Susan thought back to her old bedroom, it had been a nice girly colour, something between pink and purple. It was a little too much, considering her age. 

“So what colours remind you of Ginny?” Harry asked off-handedly. 

“Red!” Susan said without thinking, “and green, and pink…”

“Okay, maybe that is a little aggressive for a colour scheme.” Harry chuckled.

“I didn’t…” 

“I know, but sometimes it is nice if you can stay in a room which reminds you of a person you like,” Harry said with a sad smile. “So, what do you think of this?”

Harry waved his wand and suddenly the walls had turned the light green colour of spring. She had seen Ginny wear a light spring tunic just that colour.

“It’s perfect,” Susan nodded. “Very Ginny.”

“Great,” Harry chuckled. “Oh, and welcome to Carnaby Street.”

He walked out of the door and breathed a sigh of relief. It was hard pretending to be alright in front of Susan. He felt exhausted.

Harry went to knock on Tonks’s door. She stuck her head out.

“Could you spar with me?” Harry asked, “Non-magical? I need to release some tension. Probably a lot less tension if it wasn’t for your antics.”

He poked her gently in the forehead. Tonks held her hands up to it and pouted.

“Do I have to?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“Ugh… you training freak…” Tonks muttered. “Give me a second.”

Harry walked upstairs and waited for Tonks to show up. He didn’t bother changing. He needed to be able to do this in everyday clothes either way. 

Susan had heard Tonks’s door open and slam shut outside her bedroom, and she only just spotted her foot at the top of the staircase before she was gone.

“Don’t mind them,” Amelia’s voice came from downstairs. 

Susan leaned over the banister and looked down towards her aunt, sitting in the same recliner with a mug next to her on a little table and an open book in her palms. 

“What do you mean Auntie?” Susan asked. 

“Harry needs to let off some steam. He gets much more worried than he lets on,” Amelia sighed and rubbed her temples.

“He seemed fine to me,” Susan looked puzzled. 

“Go upstairs to watch then, but stay at the staircase, if they are duelling there is a shield around it, so you won’t be hit. Don’t interrupt them,” Amelia said.

Susan glanced at her aunt but decided that she might as well have a look. She walked upstairs without hearing the sigh from her aunt in the living room. She had just poked her head over the last step of the staircase when she gasped.

Harry and Tonks were fighting with their legs and fists, not a wand in sight. Harry already had a split lip, and blood was trickling down his chin. He was holding a hand to the side of his torso, but he was still standing in a fighting stance. Tonks was looking pale and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead. 

Susan rushed up the last steps and broke through the barrier.

“Why are you pulling your punches?” Harry asked eyes focused on the pink-haired witch in front of him.

“You’re still hurt.”

“Don’t look down on me,” Harry growled. 

“Isn’t it already enough?” Tonks begged, getting angry herself. “Be realistic!”

“No,” Harry said coldly. “I need to be able to fight even if my bones are broken.”

“Well, we better stop now, then,” Tonks said in disgust “Because I don’t plan on breaking them.”

Susan paled as she listened to their conversation, she couldn’t help herself from letting out a choked gasp.

Harry looked at her and sighed. He nodded to Tonks and waved a hand in mock surrender.

“I guess we better stop it then.”

“You need help with that?” Tonks asked, honestly looking relieved. 

“It’s fine,” Harry wiped off the trail of blood on his chin. “I lost this one.”

Harry brushed past Susan with a scant nod and walked downstairs. Susan looked from Harry to Tonks in dismay.

“Hah…” Tonks blew a lock of hair, soaked with sweat, out of her face. “Well, I guess it was better that ended now rather than later. Thanks, Susan.”

“No problem,” Susan looked pale.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Tonks said, “He might be able to put up a fight if he wasn’t hurt all over, but he has no chance when he can barely move his upper body because of the bruises.”

“Bruises?” Susan gasped.

“Well yeah,” Tonks wiped her forehead with a hand. “His back is more bruise than not. He won’t tell me how he got them, but I know he’s been pushing himself hard, too hard to heal… and training past the point of exercise. Anyway, they are mostly from _that_ time.”

“But, why?”

“To punish himself,” Tonks looked at her with a solemn face. “He blames himself for what happened and he decides to punish himself for it. It’s better than the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?”

Tonks shuddered. “Never mind, but trust me, it is not good.”

Tonks moved downstairs towards the staircase as well.

“You coming?” she asked. “I think it would be good to open up that ice cream we brought.”

“Hmm … Yeah,” Susan said.

As they reached the middle floor, Harry came out of his room with a towel in his hand.

“Here,” he said as he threw his wand to Tonks.

He turned around without anything more and walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Tonks was idly twirling around his wand in her hand.

“We are opening the tub of ice cream. It’s from Morelli’s!” Tonks shouted at the locked bathroom door. 

There was no reply from the other side. Tonks scrubbed her hand back and forth through her hair in frustration. Susan was beginning to think Tonks did that a lot.

“Why did he give you his wand?” Susan asked as they moved to the lower floor. 

Tonks just pointed towards Amelia, who looked up at them.

“That was fast,” she mused. “I thought you would be at it for longer. He looked tense.”

“You knew he would stop if Susan arrived,” Tonks sighed, “Thank you for that though. Here’s his wand.” 

“You always were a clever judge of devious people,” Amelia acknowledged. Harry’s wand was put next to Amelia, who just looked at it before returning her attention to Susan.

“I can imagine you have a lot of questions, but trust me, this is not one you would like to know the answer to,” Amelia smiled sadly. “We have a rule with Harry about having his wand alone in a bathroom.”

“But why?” Susan asked. 

“You can ask him yourself, but I have no idea if he will answer you. Harry can be honest to a fault, but he also values his privacy.” Amelia changed the topic. “What was it I heard about ice cream?”

“Oh, right,” Tonks said as she rushed to the freezer. “We brought this back from Morelli’s.” 

“Another bribe?” Amelia suggested.

“No!” Tonks denied.

For the second time that evening, Susan sold her out.

“It was because she thought you would be angry if she didn’t bring any,” Susan teased, but inwardly she was thinking about Harry’s behaviour. He was a lot different than she remembered.

Tonks sent her a mock-hateful glare, but Amelia just chuckled at them. 

“Go on, bring out four bowls. He might not want any, but let’s not assume anything.” 

Tonks summoned four bowls to the living room and soon they were dividing up the tub of ice cream between them and talking about nothing really. They heard the door to the bathroom open and close and they all looked up to see Harry standing at the top of the stairs in his jeans with no t-shirt on. Susan couldn’t help but gasp when she saw the many discoloured bruises on his body, only some of which were fading.

“Can I get some help here?” Harry asked in an annoyed voice.

“Come downstairs if you need help,” Amelia said briskly. 

Harry mumbled something under his breath but soon he was downstairs.

“My wand?” he asked and Amelia pointed towards the reading table next to her. 

He walked forward and grabbed it. _“Accio bruise cream!_ ” 

The container flew out of a drawer in the kitchen and into his hand. Susan didn’t really know where to look. She couldn’t help but notice the many scars still visible on his skin. Some smaller, some larger. 

“Where did you get those?” she finally asked.

“The Department of Mysteries?” Harry looked at her, puzzled with a hint of sadness.

“No, I mean the scars,” Susan specified.

“Oh…” Harry said scratching the back of his head again. “Relatives.”

He grabbed a chair and sat down on it backward.

“A little help? Please?” he looked at Tonks.

She put down her bowl and took the container from his hand. She opened it and smeared the bruises on his back in the medicinal ointment.

Harry groaned as her fingers touched his skin.

“You are an idiot,” Amelia said. “Did you honestly think you could put up a real fight in your condition?”

“No,” Harry admitted, “I just needed to move around a bit. I‘m not sure I can win even if I was at my best, honestly.”

Tonks looked a little proud when he said that. 

“Well, I have been training hard,” she smiled sweetly behind him.

“I can see that,” Harry nodded, “I didn’t expect you to be able to control the distance like that. Are you… Hey, did you shrink and stretch your arms and legs as we sparred?” 

“You noticed?” Tonks said as she kept applying more cream to his back. 

“Of course, I did, I noticed everything about you,” Harry said followed by a painful grimace when she had jerked her hand a little harder. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” Tonks said, “I think I’m done. You should probably also look after the kick to your side, I put more power into it than I had intended.”

He raised his arm, twisting slightly in a way that showed his chest and ribs. 

“Can you just get it?”

She put the cream in his other hand. “I want to go wash my hands.”

“Fine, if it bruises it bruises,” Harry put on his t-shirt and set the container on the kitchen counter. “It’s almost empty.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to need more,” Amelia said with a frown. “You can go buy it yourself when you have gotten good enough with self-transfiguration.”

“Okay, Auntie,” Harry said as he sat down on the sofa grabbing the empty bowl and filled it with ice cream. He only just took a bite when he put both spoon and bowl down. He got up and left them, saying a quick goodnight.

“What was that about?” Susan asked.

“I don’t know,” Amelia said truthfully, but Tonks looked at the ice cream and felt like beating herself.

“It’s mint chocolate chip, Hermione’s favourite,” she muttered under her breath.

“Ah,” Amelia said, “Tonks maybe he needs the draught tonight,” 

“Maybe,” Tonks nodded.

“Wait, what do you mean draught?” Susan asked with raised eyebrows.

“He sleeps with the help of a _Draught of Dreamless Sleep_ , not all nights but quite a few so far,” Amelia said. 

“Those are addictive,” Susan pointed out.

“They are indeed, but it is generally better for him to sleep than not,” Amelia said with a sad smile. “Tonks, could you bring one to him? I think I need to have a talk with Susan.”

Tonks nodded as she ate her last spoonful, and she went to a cupboard where a number of the same potions were lined up. She grabbed one and went upstairs. Her hair was pink, but a very pale, sad pink with no spark to it.

Amelia’s eyes followed her all the way up until Tonks turned towards the other side of the banisters. Amelia released a pent up sigh.

“Before I tell you as much as you need, please remember that this is about a friend, who doesn’t want everyone to know,” Amelia said.

“I understand, Auntie,” Susan nodded.

“Also, I am not going to tell you everything, there are worse details about him and his past that I don’t think are necessary for you to know unless he ever decides to tell you about them. Tonks is probably the only other person who knows exactly how bad Harry’s childhood was, and right now she is also probably the person who understands him best.” Amelia continued. “So don’t go snooping or asking questions you don’t really need the answers to.”

Susan noticed the serious look her aunt had in her eyes. She nodded and sat back.

By the time Amelia had told Susan enough about Harry’s situation, it had already become night and Susan was crying on the couch. Harry’s bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream had completely melted. 

“I think you now have an idea of why we didn’t let him go back to Hogwarts after the Department of Mysteries,” Amelia said as she gently stroked Susan’s hand. “He could not have been well there, especially considering that Hermione wouldn’t be there to help him.”

Susan nodded. “How does he do it?” 

“Do what? Survive?” Amelia asked.

“Well, yeah?” Susan said. “I don’t think I could have.”

Amelia wondered if she should tell her, but decided it was not something she needed to know. Not yet.

“Well, enough about that,” Amelia said, ending the conversation. “We’ve shared enough for one day. You should get to bed, too.”

Susan nodded and wiped away her tears.

“Is there any way I can help him?” Susan asked as she helped up Amelia from her recliner.

“If he asks for help, then help, and if he doesn’t, then don’t,” Amelia smiled sadly. “The boy is as stubborn as Sirius was.”

Susan nodded and went up towards her own bedroom. 


	6. Friends and Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan settles into the flat on Carnaby Street.
> 
> • Duelling practice  
> • Ginny schedules a visit  
> • an embarrassing cramp  
> • wise beyond his years and sad beyond his age  
> • sunbathing

**Chapter 6**. **Friends and Relations**

Harry had taken to dragging Susan into duelling with him during the past several weeks. Sometimes he would even duel against both Tonks and Susan at the same time. He would always push himself further and further. He hadn’t been able to win consistently against Tonks yet, but it was getting closer to an even match. He would consistently win against Susan, but he would always put himself under a handicap when it was one-on-one. Susan vowed to herself that she would make him fight her seriously before the summer was over. When Harry wasn’t training, he would close himself up in the study and read the different books about potions and poisons, curses and counter-curses. He even started reading about dark creatures. Amelia would constantly test him on his knowledge and had even once forced him to brew an antidote to a poison that Amelia threatened she would use on Tonks if he didn’t take it seriously. Harry had almost flared up at that but had studiously been brewing in a tiny room on the lower floor. It hadn’t been there originally, but Amelia had decided it would serve as a good training space for him. He would never sit still. 

Susan had tried to keep up, but even with her hard-working attitude, she needed to relax. Harry would regularly look pale or sleep-deprived, and his notes were cluttered all over the space. He had stopped training himself so hard when Amelia had sat him down and threatened to keep him in a full body-lock curse for a couple of days if he didn’t rest until his bruises were gone. Susan hadn’t noticed just how much time had passed until she opened a letter which arrived one morning. It was from Ginny.

_Hello Love_

_Mum says she’s thinking of letting me stay a couple of days at your place.  
I have a sneaking suspicion that she expects me to spy on Harry, but if that is _ _what it takes for me to visit, I’m okay with it. I tried to get Mum to agree_ _with letting me stay for a week or more, but she hasn’t budged. Ron has spent_ _most of his time at St. Mungo’s visiting Hermione. He says she has already_ _studied the whole of first-year and she is almost done with second-year lessons._

_She is as scary-impressive as ever. I look forward to seeing you, so please ask_ _your aunt when I might visit. I cannot wait until I can see you again!_

_Yours, Ginny_

Susan noticed the faint print of lipstick under the name, and the parchment smelled minty, like Pepper Imps, Ginny’s favourite sweet. Susan looked up at her aunt, hopefully.

“Ginny asks when she can stay here,” Susan said.

“Hmm. Harry, how good has your self-transfiguration become? And Tonks, do you have any days off? I don’t feel safe letting them go out to explore without you two with them.” Amelia frowned.

Harry had had some trouble improving his self-transfiguration. Tonks and Susan still giggled at the image of him one morning, when he had messed up and gotten his hair stuck as pink for three days. Susan had seen him in the kitchen thinking it was Tonks and had been unable to keep standing because of the laughter when he had turned around. 

Tonks had teased him for a week after telling him to keep it as it made him look “cute”. Harry had sent a stinging jinx after her for the first time in years. Tonks had yelped and rubbed her bum where he had hit her, but the amused smile which she had sported after made Susan believe that Harry was slowly getting better. 

He had also stopped taking the _Draught of Dreamless Sleep_ a week ago. He would still sometimes have nightmares, episodes of wrenching muscle spasms, or panic that would wake him, but they were further and further between, which had begun to improve the mood of the whole flat. 

“I should be able to manage; I haven’t been able to change the scar though,” Harry admitted, “if people know me and see that, there’s a fair chance they will realise it’s me—it is a rather famous feature.”

He made a weary grimace.

“Have you tried Muggle makeup?” Tonks asked.

“No,” Harry said. “What made you think of that?” 

“You know Reagan’s sister? She helped me with some for a Christmas party,” Tonks said with a bit of a wistful look. 

“Something wrong?” Harry asked, concerned.

“Ah… I just blew it with a decent bloke at that party,” Tonks sighed. 

“You could always try to reach out to him,” Harry suggested.

“No, I don’t think I should,” Tonks shrugged. “It just never felt completely right.”

“Okay,” Harry said.

As he walked past her, he gave her a supporting squeeze on the shoulder. She put her hand over the spot he had touched with a little smile. 

“So, do you have any days off?” Amelia asked once more. 

“Oh, yes. I should be able to take a couple of days off,” Tonks nodded, “Scrimgeour is an okay bloke. I don’t think it will be a problem.”

“Go find out today, would you? So Susan can send a reply back tonight? Even if it is just one day off for them to explore London, it is better than nothing.” Amelia said.

Susan sent Tonks a grateful smile. It wasn’t that she didn’t mind spending the few days in bed with Ginny, but she had only had a couple of chances to explore with Tonks when she had a day off. Harry had stayed sequestered in the flat, not that he ever showed that it bothered him. He would just pick up another book from the mounting pile. They had had to build a third bookcase in the study for his books. Floor to ceiling, too. 

Susan felt incredibly light and optimistic all day. Harry had spent some time opening up a roof terrace for her to sit on and tan. It was extended out from the training hall, but that didn’t bother her much. The glass doors were as solid as the rest of the room, so there was little danger of it breaking from the duelling. She had been surprised when he had shown her and pleased that he had been considerate enough to think of her.

Susan had been thinking of Harry as invading her life with her Auntie, but she realised that she was just as much or more invading the life he had built in Carnaby Street. The terrace was a kind of welcoming gift, and she appreciated it.

She also had a naughty idea of how to use the terrace with Ginny. They couldn’t be seen because of the Fidelius Charm, but maybe they could be heard from the ground if Ginny was loud enough. The only thing they needed to be worried about was Harry and Tonks, but if Tonks was at work and Harry was busy in the study, maybe…

Susan blushed when she thought about it. Since when had she become like this? It definitely had to do with the fact that they used the Hogwarts grounds to enjoy themselves more than their actual bedrooms. 

She had bought a rather risqué bikini on one of her trips with Tonks. She had felt it was much too revealing when she had seen it, but she had wanted to take revenge on some of Tonks’s pranking, and when she had spotted Tonks turning red-faced at a more modest pink bikini in the shop window, she had hatched her plan. 

“I think we should go in here,” Susan had teased in front of the store. “I think you would look very attractive in that.” 

She had expected Tonks to shake her head and want to run away, but somehow she had nervously gone into the store. 

Susan had gotten herself a white bikini that fit delightfully against her body. She looked forward to showing it off to Ginny and maybe even bringing her to the store herself. Tonks had gotten three different sizes for her top, which had puzzled Susan until she saw Tonks smirking. 

_Right, of course, she can change sizes,_ Susan had groaned quietly. 

The cashier had looked puzzled when she had seen the three different sizes at the register and offered to let her try out the size in the changing room, but Tonks had just said she would like all three. 

Right now, Susan was standing in front of Harry, wearing only her bikini and a wrap around her waist. She was annoyed to find that Harry didn’t even seem to react to her near nakedness. It wasn’t that she needed him to notice, but the lack of reaction vexed her more than she would like to admit. 

“Going out on the terrace?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” she said. 

“Oh, okay,” Harry shrugged. “I wanted to move my body, and I was going to ask you if you wanted a duel.”

 _What a jock..._ Susan groaned. _Or as Tonks would call it, ‘Training Freak.’_

“You could join me, instead?” Susan tried. 

“Why would I do that?” Harry looked confused.

“To relax you great idiot, maybe even get a tan,” Susan rubbed her forehead. She walked over to the bannister and shouted downstairs. “Auntie, could you tell Harry to go to the terrace and relax?” 

“Harry, go relax, no reading, no working out,” Amelia’s stern but loving voice came out from downstairs. 

“But–” Harry began.

“No buts!” Amelia waddled over to the bottom of the stairs. “You need break days to relax and let your muscles regenerate.”

“Fine!” Harry raised his hands in mock-surrender. “Give me a second.”

He ran to his room and found an older pair of jeans which still fit in the waist but were too short for him. A few severing charms later and he had made some shorts, which only reached the tops of his thighs. He put them on and walked out of his room, still wearing a t-shirt. 

“Not a bad look, Potter,” Susan commented. 

“Thanks,” Harry shrugged. “Give me a second, I’ll make us some iced tea.” 

“I’ll go up ahead of you then,” Susan said as she walked up the stairs.

Harry walked down the stairs and heard a wolf-whistle from Amelia as he walked into the kitchen.

“What?” Harry asked with a frown.

“Well, watch out with that behind, you’ll leave a trail of swooning witches.” Amelia teased. 

“Oh, shut it,” Harry laughed as he made two pitchers of iced tea. He placed one of them next to Amelia, who was mostly stuck in her recliner reading these days or walking around the downstairs floor. She had less than eight weeks left before her due date, as they were already in the middle of June. 

“Thanks, Harry,” Amelia said with a smile. “Please take today to relax, really. You’re too tense.” 

“I know, Auntie,” Harry said, “It’s just …”

“Easier to not think about things, when you stay busy?” Amelia asked.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admitted.

“You know, it’s not all bad to actually think about it a bit, instead of bottling it up,” Amelia said. “I understand you don’t like talking about it, but Susan knows both of you. Might be worth a try.”

Harry sent her a pensive look.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, and he carried two glasses and the pitcher up towards the roof. 

Harry was lost in thought as he ascended the stairs. All of his suppressed emotions seemed like they were fighting within him to be released. He didn’t even notice whatever Susan said to him as he sat down on his own deck chair. His mind was swimming in circles as he laid down against the plastic.

“Harry,” Susan’s voice penetrated his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it was just something Auntie said,” Harry waved his hand as he pulled off his t-shirt. “It’s nothing, it just started some thoughts I didn’t want to think about much.”

“You know, you can talk to me if you want,” Susan tread cautiously. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Harry closed his eyes and felt the sun on his skin. His body slowly relaxed under the heat. 

“It’s just… unfair,” he said after a while. “I love her, but is _she_ even here anymore? I know that Hermione is still alive, but she’s not _my_ Hermione. She doesn’t even remember me, and as much as I hate to admit it, John —err, Mister Granger— is right, it would be too much for her. It’s just… I really love her, and it’s killing me and terrifying me to go back to Hogwarts and seeing her, knowing that she won’t look at me the same way she used to. I don’t know how I’ll react. I’m torn, wanting to go and see her at St. Mungo’s, but would that even be good for her? Would she hate me if I went? Would she hate me if I didn’t go? I just don’t know what to do.”

Silence descended between them after his prolonged outburst. Susan didn’t know what to say, if there was even anything which was correct to say. She gathered her courage.

“You are a good man, Harry,” she said softly. 

“I’m not… if I was a good man, I wouldn’t have let her go with me, I wouldn’t have let her get hurt.” Harry had begun shivering, weeping with his whole body.

“It’s because you’re a good man that you went, and because you’re a good man that we went with you. We knew the danger,” Susan said firmly. 

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“None of us did. Even if she knew what would happen to her, she would still have gone.” Susan was choosing her words carefully. “If you’re honest with yourself you know that. She would never have let you go without her, she’s too strong. She wouldn’t have stayed behind being worried about you. Her as much as any of us.”

Harry cried silently as he listened to her words. The only sounds on the terrace were the sounds of his shallow breathing mixing with the soft sounds of people down on the street. 

Susan sipped her glass of iced tea, looking at him with sadness. She had never seen Harry cry before. She didn’t want to interrupt him.

She watched as he wiped away his tears and grabbed the pitcher to pour himself a glass. She watched as he gulped it all down at once, some of it spilling down his chest. 

“Thanks,” Harry said as he put the glass down. “I think I’m going to sleep for a bit, could you wake me up in like fifteen, twenty minutes? But nothing more than that, okay?” 

“Sure thing,” Susan smiled at him as he laid down and closed his eyes. She soon listened to his steady breaths. 

She enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her skin as she closed her eyes. It was a beautiful day. She hadn’t expected Harry to open up. She certainly hadn’t expected him to cry. She felt closer to him than before, though. More like family in a sense. He was like a brother, a brother who had seen so much, was plagued by so much. She knew he was younger than her, but rarely did Harry seem his age. 

_He was always wise beyond his age, and sad beyond his years, even before,_ she thought as she looked at him. _It’s aged him._

She was way in over her head if she ever wanted to help him with whatever he was dealing with, but maybe she didn’t need to actually give him advice, maybe she just needed to listen. 

Time passed quickly, and soon she was past the fifteen minutes Harry had given himself to take a nap. She didn’t want to wake him at first, but she noticed that she was getting a good tan on one side, and he was paler than she was. It was probably better if she woke him now. She got up and pushed his shoulder. She felt his hand wrap around her wrist, forcing her down to her knees.

“Ouch, let me go!” Susan squealed.

Harry’s eyes flew open, wide and burning brightly. “I’m so sorry!” He backed so far away he fell off his chair. “I didn’t mean it!”

“Merlin, Harry,” Susan rubbed her wrist. “It’s okay.” 

“No,” Harry said miserably. “I should go back inside.”

“Don’t go,” Susan pleaded. “It really is okay, it didn’t even hurt – I was just startled, that’s all. Besides, you need to tan on the other side or else you’ll look weird. I’m alright, trust me.”

Harry was by the glass doors, when he turned around to look back at her. He felt dangerous to be around. He hadn’t felt like that around Tonks or even Amelia. Tonks could react to him more than capably, and he was never in a situation where Amelia took him by surprise. 

“You sure?” He sounded doubtful.

“Yes,” Susan nodded. “I’m sure.”

Harry reluctantly walked back to his deck chair and sat down.

“You need to lie on your stomach to get the back tanned.” Susan mused at him as she changed her own chair to a horizontal position and laid down on her stomach.

Harry followed her example. He was feeling fidgety, but he tried his best to relax. 

_Relax, I need to relax and unwind,_ he thought to himself. _If you keep being in high alert, you’ll burn out._

He felt the sun on his shoulders and back, he tried to control his breathing as he felt the warmth wash over his body. He opened his eyes and looked at Susan, who was lying there next to him.

 _Thank you,_ he thought to himself. _You have no idea how much I was missing a friend._

They got up after another half hour, and Harry felt drenched in sweat in a different way than he did from training. It was a good feeling, though. Susan was smiling, and their little incident looked like it was absolutely forgiven, if not completely forgotten.

Amelia watched the interactions between Harry and Susan carefully for the next few days. Rather than trying to repair their lives from the ground up, the two youngsters seemed to be taking things more cautiously. Susan and Harry each maintained their own separate relationship with Amelia, while not pushing or demanding much from each other. It was a sensible way to negotiate the reality of their new, blended family, and it made Amelia optimistic that they would eventually all settle in together without any unnecessary fireworks.

Of course, with Harry and Susan, along with Tonks, all being intense young people in a confined situation, there were bound to be bumps along the way.

Amelia was sipping at a cup of apple juice, having drunk so much tea recently that she was developing an aversion to it. She had been unable to sleep and was up early, enjoying the quiet morning alone with her thoughts, when she heard a shriek from upstairs, followed by slamming doors.

“Bloody hell,” she sighed, pulling herself to her feet. She made her way towards the stairs, trying to peer into the darkness upstairs and figure out what was going on. Just as she arrived at the stairs, she saw Susan, clutching her robe tight around her, hair a mess and face mottled with anger, stomping to the railing.

“Auntie!” Susan’s voice was growly and rough, and Amelia was reminded of Tonks before her coffee in the morning. “Auntie, do something!”

“What is it?” At that point, Harry, wearing a pair of unbuttoned jeans but no shirt, also came to the railing, looking down at Amelia but avoiding Susan.

“It’s not my fault!” Harry sounded peevish. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“He was doing something perverted in the bathroom,” Susan said, her voice angry and embarrassed. “Why couldn’t he lock the door? I walked in on whatever it was!”

“Who barges into a bathroom?” Harry complained. “I had a cramp! I was stretching, that’s all– I swear!”

“Well—” Amelia began, but Susan cut her off before she could say anything further.

“And where exactly was this ‘cramp’? I don’t want to see _that_ first thing in the morning, you know!” Susan was still clutching her robe, and Amelia realised that neither of them had expected anyone in the bathroom and neither had been properly dressed. 

“Wotcher,” came the confused call, as the third resident of the second floor made her appearance. Tonks was scrubbing her face with her hands and looking bleary-eyed from Susan to Harry and back. Her hair was not only a horrible pale green, it was sticking almost directly out from one side of her head. “Where’s the fire?”

“Susan, I’m sure Harry was not trying to do anything to embarrass you,” Amelia said firmly.

“But—”

“No!” Amelia put a stop to any more from Susan. “And Harry?”

“What? I needed a glass of water.” He swallowed, and hung his head as she stared him down. “I mean, ‘Yes, Auntie?’ Sorry.”

“That’s better,” Amelia said. “You’re living with two young ladies up there now, and you are a young man, and you are all sharing that bath. Please be considerate in future, as I know that you can be.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said. He muttered to himself, loud enough for her to hear clearly, “I could cast _Colloportus_ if I could take my wand to the bloody loo…”

“ _And_ you could use the perfectly acceptable latch, sir.” She held his eye, and he nodded, abashed.

“So, can I go back to bed, or what?” Tonks was still standing there, confused.

“It’s about time everyone was up, now, anyway. Harry, get dressed and come start breakfast. Tonks, please take a minute to talk to Susan. She has not had your experience in sharing a flat with – Well, just talk to her please. And Susan? Susan?”

“Yes, ma’am?” Her voice was calm but still clearly irritated.

“You compose yourself and come down when you are civil. I shall see you shortly.”

Amelia returned to her juice, and decided to indulge herself and have tea with breakfast after all. She heard mutterings and low voices and doors opening and closing upstairs, then a relative quiet. She put the kettle on and took a seat, lowering herself uncomfortably into her chair. Maybe it was because she was older, but this whole pregnancy thing seemed to be harder than it was supposed to be.

Tonks sat on the end of Susan’s bed, doing her best to look alert and awake. Susan had thrown a pair of jeans and a blouse on and was trying to explain just how horrible her morning had been.

“Things have been going so well,” Susan finally said in frustration. “How have you managed all this time?”

Tonks shrugged. How could she explain the weirdly intimate way she and Harry lived for the last few years. Closer than lovers in some ways, but awkward and private as strangers in others. Tonks finally said something she hoped sounded reassuring.

“He’s not hard to live with, a lot of the time. He’s neat, he cooks, he’s thoughtful…”

Tonks flopped back, staring at the ceiling. “He doesn’t come and go at all hours or forget to lower the toilet lid. Best of all, he really lets you know that he cares about… people.” 

She closed her mouth, worried she’d gone too far.

Susan looked at her, and lay back as well, also staring at the ceiling.

“I get it. I just haven’t ever had to share Auntie with anything but her work before. I guess I wasn’t handling it as well as I thought I was.”

“What do you say we head down? I’d give my left tit for coffee right now.”

Susan laughed, and reached out a hand to Tonks, touching her shoulder as they sat up. She looked at the older woman with a serious expression for a moment.

“And Tonks,” she said quietly. “I won’t ever tell.”

Tonks showed fear, embarrassment, denial, regret, all in the span of a few seconds. She hopped to her feet, swinging her arms and pacing about. “No idea what you mean.”

Susan nodded and got up as well. “I see your face when you’re talking about him, looking at him. It’s the same way I look at Ginny.” She opened the door and headed downstairs.

Tonks could hear Harry downstairs, pans clattering on the cooktop, just the sound of him, in their home, that she had come to count on. _Even a schoolgirl could still tell,_ she thought. _The only person who doesn’t know how I feel about Harry is... Harry._

She heard a squeal, this time of excitement and happiness, from the kitchen and she hurried downstairs.

Susan was holding a small note, while a diminutive owl hopped excitedly back and forth from her arm to Harry’s shoulder and back, hooting smugly.

Before anyone could say anything, Harry put a very large mug of very strong coffee into her hands. She took a deep, grateful breath, inhaling the essential aroma to jumpstart her brain. She smiled at Harry, and he gave her a wink.

“She’s coming!” Susan said excitedly, her words pouring over each other. Tonks had never seen her so excited before. “Ginny, she’s got permission! She’s coming in two days, just the weekend, but if everything goes well her mother might let her come again.”

Tonks took her first sip and then sighed.

“Tell you what, I don’t have to be at the Ministry until this evening. What do you say we get your breakfast, and then we can go out and find a few things to help you make Ginny feel welcome? Assuming that’s okay, Boss?”

Amelia waved her hand. “I could use the peace around here. Go. Have fun.”

Harry smiled, but Tonks saw that he didn’t seem entirely thrilled. She gave him a regretful look.

“Sorry that you can’t come with, Harry. Maybe by the weekend, you’ll have that self-transfiguration solid enough to come along.”

“No, you girls have a good time. I’ve got an idea I want to work on, and Auntie can check my self-transfiguration work later.” He smiled, putting on a happy face for Susan, not wanting anything to bring her down before her girlfriend visited.

“Thanks, Harry,” Susan said excitedly. “Next time, all of us, I promise. I know you can do the disguises, I know it.”

Harry started serving breakfast, but it was clear that Susan was too excited to do more than touch her food before she dashed upstairs to get ready. Tonks finished her coffee and looked longingly at her plate.

“Hold on a tick,” Harry said, scooping her eggs and bacon with a slice of fried tomato between two slices of buttered toast. “Muggle breakfast sandwich. Enjoy.”

Tonks took a bite as she took her plates to the sink. She turned around, mouth full and eyes wide, nodding enthusiastically.

“You like?” Harry asked needlessly, watching her hair go all bubblegum pink, his favourite.

She swallowed her enormous bite with gusto, and pasted an enthusiastic kiss on Harry's cheek, before rushing upstairs herself, sandwich in hand.

“Well, you just made a young lady very happy,” Amelia said, picking at her breakfast. Her system had decided to be “delicate” this morning.

“It was just a sandwich,” he shrugged.

“I meant Susan. You made a good show of not caring that she was taking time with Tonks away from you. That was kind.”

He sat, finished with his own food but happy to sit with Amelia for a while as the hubbub of two young women preparing to head out proceeded upstairs. He smiled, but it was a slightly hollow smile, a little self-mocking.

“I know what love is,” he said softly. “It’s the only weapon that has been able so far to hurt... _Him._ I don’t ever want to take a chance for love away from any of us. Not ever again.”

Amelia at first was impressed by Harry’s positive outlook, but on closer look, she noticed that his hands were gripping the edge of the table very hard, his knuckles white, and a muscle at the corner of his eye was twitching irregularly. Her heart went out to him anew.

“You’re not wrong, Harry,” she said softly as the girls came clambering loudly down the stairs. 

Susan was wearing the dragon skin vest that Tonks sometimes wore when she couldn’t wear her long coat. Tonks of course was wearing the coat, but her t-shirt underneath was cut off short and revealed a wide, creamy slice of skin above her belt. Tonks had matched her hair to Susan’s, and they looked like two sisters looking for trouble. Susan beamed at her aunt.

“Wotcher, Auntie!” Susan laughed, doing a little spin. “We won’t be late, I promise. I know Tonks has to work tonight.”

“Have fun, you two,” Harry said, standing quickly. “I’m going to take a shower while there’s no chance of unexpected visitors.”

The girls left, and just as Amelia was about to say something to Harry, he returned and wordlessly set his wand by her side.

He headed upstairs, and she took a last sip of tea, before seeing to the breakfast dishes. She was not feeling very well and thought maybe she’d have a bit of a lie down once Harry was out of the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a critical chapter for THE PLOT, but a lot of heavy lifting on characterization and tone, establishing the routine of Carnaby Street as everyone adapts to the new normal. Waske had already written most of this, so that was a treat.
> 
> Enjoy,  
> Killjoy


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude-   
> • Ronald Weasley visits Hermione Granger in the ward at St. Mungo's.  
> • Ron struggles with how much Hermione is struggling, and he tries to not be a prat, with some success.  
> • Books, semantics, and grapes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> In 1931, in New Orleans, Louisiana, mathematician Alfred Korzybski presented a paper on mathematical semantics…Important stuff certainly, but not necessarily immediately useful for the layperson.
> 
> However, in his string of arguments on the structure of language, Korzybski introduced and popularized the idea that the map is not the territory. In other words, the description of the thing is not the thing itself. The model is not reality. The abstraction is not the abstracted. This has enormous practical consequences.

**Chapter 7**. **Interlude: “The Map Is Not the Territory”**

Ron Weasley arrived via floo to the main lobby of St. Mungo’s. He had two books in one hand, and a bunch of grapes in the other. Another Gryffindor, young Colin Creevey, had once mentioned to him that it was a Muggle tradition that you brought grapes to someone in hospital. Ron knew that Hermione had been raised a Muggle, and was struggling to regain what she’d experienced of the Wizarding world. Still, Ron came from a very traditional family so– grapes.

He took the stairs two at a time, not from any sense of urgency, but more as a nod towards the Quidditch conditioning he hadn’t been getting lately. Ron was rather lazy by temperament, but some success at sport, not to mention the momentous events in the world around him, were slowly pushing him towards fitness and consistent effort. “Not letting the side down,” that most British of virtues, was not unique to the Muggle world.

He arrived at the ward and took a second to catch his breath and make sure there were no spots on his trousers or egg on his shirt. Hermione Granger, he had been re-learning, was not afraid of cataloging out his flaws. Pointedly. Satisfied he met her and his own minimum standards, he entered the ward.

Hermione was sitting in a chair, by the window, with a small lap desk and a large stack of books next to her. Her hair was unkempt and bushy, her face an unsettling combination of youthful innocence and traumatic weariness. She saw him come in, and her face lit up with a smile. Ever since she had discovered her much more manageable front teeth, Hermione had been prone to huge smiles with the slightest provocation.

“Oh, hello, Ronald!” Always formal. Never Ron, always Ronald. At least she had stopped calling him “Mr. Weasley” after the first two visits. That had been profoundly troubling for Ron. Ronald.

“Hello, Hermione,” he said warmly, coming next to her and sitting in another chair opposite her. He made no attempt to get physically close or touch her. After his first visit, he had thoughtlessly gone to give her a quick hug goodbye, just being friendly and supportive, but when his arm went around her she’d shrieked. A full panic attack had followed, and it had been almost a week before she and her parents had allowed him a second visit.

Instead, he sat across from her. He kept his movements careful, his wand out of sight, and did his best to listen more, and to speak less. He placed his gifts, both books and grapes, on the small table between them rather than into her hands. It was a lot to remember, but one of Ron’s few clear strengths even as a child was long-range thinking. It’s what made him so dangerous at wizard chess. He’d just not bothered to think ahead much when he wasn’t playing until more recently. He found you heard words like “prat” or “git” a lot less if you thought about what you were saying before you said it, rather than after, or not at all.

“You brought me grapes?” She smiled again, the slightly exaggerated, beaming smile. “Thank you, Ronald.”

“I was hoping that was actually a tradition,” he admitted with relief. “The wizard who told me about it is not exactly reliable. On the excitable side.”

She frowned, her face unguarded, and he could see that she was mentally checking her notes. “Dennis Creevey?”

“Close!” He gave what he hoped was an encouraging look. “His brother, Colin.”

Her face fell, and she grabbed one of many scraps of paper in stacks on her lap desk and scowled as she made another note on the crowded page. Ron could tell she was berating herself for making a mistake.

“Hermione,” he said softly. When she didn’t look up, he called her again more firmly. “ _Hermione_.”

She looked up, and guilt swept across her transparent facade. “Sorry. I knew that one. I knew I knew it…”

“Hermione,” Ron chided, “I agreed to spend time with you, and help fill you in on all the social and practical details of life at Hogwarts, on the one condition that you didn’t try to be perfect on every memory, every day. Do you recall that conversation?” 

The Healers had pressed upon him the importance of checking her recent memories and never pressing her on her lost or damaged memories. It was challenging, but Ron felt like there had to be something he could do. He harbored a great deal of guilt for his own failures in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. After he had been befuddled in the Planets Room, everything had gone wrong. He wasn’t egotistical enough to blame himself for everything, but he felt he had his portion of blame to shoulder, at least as much as anyone.

“I just hate getting things wrong,” Hermione admitted, staring down at her jumper. In addition to her memory problems, Hermione was dealing with what her mother called “Body Dysmorphic Disorder,” which was apparently a Muggle term relating to feeling not at home in your own body. She wore nothing but loose clothing, lots of oversized jumpers and such. While it made her more comfortable, it also tended to exaggerate the effect she sometimes presented now of being a child in a young woman’s body.

“It’s okay to not know everything.” He saw her frown and decided to change the subject to something more positive. “But look, I found your books. Had to get my brother to go to a Muggle friend of his to track down the blue one.”

“Percy? No, wait, one of the twins because Percy wouldn’t have any Muggle friends,” she said shrewdly.

“Right, George. Now, is that the one you wanted?”

She picked it up and began to tear through it at high speed, her face intense and her breathing shallow. Not even Hermione read that fast.

“Hey, slow down, slow down. What are you looking for exactly?”

“ _Korzybski_!” she shouted, stopping on a page a third of the way through the dense book.

“Bless you,” he said immediately.

She rolled her eyes melodramatically, and said to him as if to a small child, “ _Ronald_ , it’s a name? Alfred Korzybski, the semantician? I recalled my father mentioned him at dinner last year…”

Her face fell again, but she perked herself up and corrected, “At dinner, _six years ago_. The map is not the territory!”

“I was teasing,” Ron replied gently. “I might not understand what that book was on about, but I did remember the author you’d asked for. So, what do you mean, about maps?”

“Well, do you recall,” she asked, carefully avoiding the word “remember” by habit now, “what the matron said about my… well, I’ll say it if you won’t, about my memories? The framework?”

“Let me see, something about how they could recover your experience patterns, but they couldn’t actually restore… everything.”

“It’s sort of like this,” She agreed. “Everything from the day before they visited us from Hogwarts, I have pretty clearly, except some of the really early stuff before I was four, and hadn’t learnt to read yet.”

“You learned to read at four? I didn’t get ‘Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump’ read to me until I was five. Bloody hell!”

“Language, Ronald,” she said primly. He smiled in spite of himself. He remembered _this_ Hermione rather well. “Anyhow, before Hogwarts, clear. After that… at first, it was all gone. Now, I still don’t know all that I’m lacking, but have a vague idea of what it is that I don’t know.”

“So… you don’t know, but you’ve learned that you don’t know, and you’re trying to work out how to know… what it is that you don’t know?” His brow was furrowed with the many kinks in that chain of thought.

“Exactly!” Hermione squealed and clapped her hands together. 

It was times like this that she was tragically childlike, but also very open and approachable. It made him both sad and happy at the same time. “But what’s this about maps?”

“Oh, yes. So Korzybski made the distinction between the _thing_ , be it an object in the world or a thought or an idea, and the _language_ , the map to describe the thing. He made it clear that there’s a difference between the way we can describe an idea, and an idea itself. That’s where I am now. I’m rebuilding my maps and figuring sort of roughly which ones are missing, but I don’t have the right experiences and information to understand exactly what they mean.”

“The map is not the territory,” Ron said, shaking his head. “It’s right humbling, you know. You’ve been here all this while, puzzling this out with all you’ve been through, and I’ve just been doing a bit of homework and helping mum and dad around the house. Five-year head start, and you’re still that much smarter than me.”

She looked down again, twisting her hands in her lap and not meeting his eye.

“I’m sorry, Ronald. I wasn’t trying to be clever or make you feel bad.”

“Hey,” he said, sharp enough that she did look up and meet his eye. “Never apologize for being the smartest witch in the room, Hermione. Your friends are all proud of you. I’m sure loads of them would be here if it was allowed.”

“Loads of friends,” she said wistfully. “Now that is an odd thought.”

A Healer on rounds stuck her head in the ward and gave Ron a cautionary look. He was under strict instructions that Hermione was not to be tired out or bothered.

“Well, I guess that’s my signal,” he said, standing slowly and stretching slightly. “Don’t swallow that book whole, now. The map may not be the territory, but it’s not a jam sandwich either. Small bites, now.”

She laughed and gave him another smile. “Yes, sir, Mr. Weasley!”

He mimed fainting in horror. “No more of that now. See you again soon, Hermione. Be well.”

“I will, thank you, Ronald,” she called after him as he walked towards the door. He stopped at the doorway to wave goodbye, and she called out again, “And thank you for the grapes! They’re lovely!”

He smiled, and almost whistled as he went around the corner. He kept it up until he reached the stairs, a good way from her ward, but then he sort of collapsed down onto the top step. He hugged his knees a bit and took a moment to collect himself before he returned home. He hoped these visits were worth it for Hermione. He knew they were taking their toll on him. If she recovered someday, if she was _Hermione_ again, it would be worth it, he supposed.

After a few more minutes, he stood, squared his shoulders, and quickly descended the stairs and headed home. He was already planning out stories about their third year for next time, juggling all the details to avoid making the Harry-sized hole in them quite so obvious. She was so much brighter than him, he acknowledged, it was a very long game indeed to avoid that subject until everyone agreed it was time. He hoped when the time came, she could forgive him.


	8. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has to deal with some petty emotions he'd rather not face when Ginny comes to visit her girlfriend, Susan.
> 
> • Harry perfects his self-transformation and does some shopping  
> • explicit scene (Ginny and Susan reunited)  
> • Harry surprises Tonks  
> • accidental near-snogging

**Chapter 8**. **Surprise**

Harry sighed loudly to himself as he got out of the shower. It was still morning. Maybe he should have gone for a workout instead of taking the shower. He dreaded Ginny’s arrival. He liked Susan and Ginny, and he liked them as a couple, but that was when he wasn’t going to be watching them up close and personal. Something he couldn’t have. It was vexing. He sighed loudly once more and went to his room to put on some clothes. There were still two days left for him to come to terms with seeing a happy couple in front of him.

 _I shouldn’t be this petty_ , he thought. 

He walked downstairs and sat on the couch next to Amelia. He couldn’t swallow a sigh in time.

“Something bothering you?” she asked, looking up from her book. 

“It’s nothing,” Harry lied. 

“Clearly,” Amelia smirked.

“Okay, fine,” Harry admitted. “It’s just I am afraid of seeing Ginny and Susan, you know, happy...”

“Why?” Amelia raised an eyebrow. 

She hadn’t thought him to be averse to the girls’ relationship before. He certainly hadn’t said anything to suggest it. 

“Because I am jealous,” Harry groaned. “I’m jealous of their happiness. They have something I can no longer have.” 

“Ah,” Amelia stretched out the sound longer than usual. “I understand. I hadn’t really thought about that.” She also thought that the sight of young people in love might not be a thrill for Tonks either, for a number of reasons. 

“Honestly, that’s also part of the reason why I didn’t fight to go with them,” Harry ruffled his hair, well maybe it was closer to pulling it at this point. “I just didn’t want to listen to how happy Susan was. I know that’s petty, but I can’t help what I feel. I’m sure I’ll get by when Ginny is here, of course. Susan is a good friend and so is Ginny. It’s just …”

“Frustrating,” Amelia finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “That’s also why I want to start a new project, something to keep my mind too busy to be hung up on them. Maybe I can actually make a calculator work using magic. At least it might keep me occupied, and not make me a sullen git who ruins the mood for my friends.”

Amelia nodded. She was pleasantly surprised that Harry thought ahead and even took measures to ensure that he would be able to keep himself under control. 

She had agreed to let Harry go out by himself _if_ he could disguise himself enough to fool her at first glance. She had never seen him so concentrated before. She watched as he transfigured bone structure to have a wider jawline, and the beard he added was making him positively at least five years older than he was. He had managed to lengthen his hair so it went down to his shoulders and even if he couldn’t completely subdue the mess Potter-hair was known to be, he managed to pull it back into a casual ponytail, which restrained it somewhat. He changed the colour to a dirty blonde, and his eye colour was changed to blue. If he could hide the scar, he would indeed be unrecognizable. 

Amelia pointed towards her forehead, which made Harry grin.

 _“Accio Make-up,”_ Harry said pointing his wand towards his upstairs. The small bag of foundation and concealer flew down into his hand. He went over to a mirror and carefully applied the make-up to hide his scar. He blended it carefully with his skin colour, and soon a completely different man was standing in the living room.

“Okay, you pass,” Amelia said with relief. “I would not have given you a second glance.” 

Harry grinned and scratched his well-kept beard. 

“So you’re saying I’m no longer pretty,” he said, trying to make his voice sound at least a little lower than usual. 

“Very funny,” Amelia shook her head. “Your voice needs work, but that is partly because I know it’s you.” 

“So, I’m good to go?” Harry asked.

“Yes, thirty minutes this first time. If you’re not back by thirty minutes, I’m calling the Order,” Amelia said sternly. “No discussion.”

Harry calculated that it would just be enough time for him to go out, buy the calculator and then get home again.

“Should be doable,” Harry nodded. “Thirty minutes.”

Harry felt freer than he had in quite a while. The sun was shining on Carnaby Street and people were walking around enjoying the summer weather. He looked around and took in the fresh air around him. He hadn’t known just how much he actually needed to be outside. 

He quickly made his way towards a bookstore which might sell him a calculator. He didn’t need it to be fancy, it just needed to be battery-driven. He needed something cheap, so it wouldn’t matter if he broke it. 

“And what can I help you with, sir?” the manager of the bookstore inquired.

“Calculator,” Harry tried to make his voice more gruff than usual.

“Certainly, sir,” the manager nodded. “We have a wide selection. Was there a type or model you wanted?”

“I don’t need anything fancy,” Harry said. “Just something which works well enough.”

“Certainly, sir,” the manager nodded, leading him towards the display of calculators. 

“All these do basic functions: addition, subtraction, division, and multiplication. These also have square-root, and most have a last-number memory. Graphing calculators and paper tape printing calculators are towards there, mostly for students and business” 

Harry pointed to a random basic calculator, “Battery driven?” 

“No sir,” the manager said. “Solar; never needs batteries. Will run off a desk lamp as well, any lit room actually.”

“Really? I’ll take this one then.”

“Certainly, anything else I could help you find?” 

“No, that should do it.” Harry was surprised how quickly that had gone.

He checked the time and decided he could take his leisure walking back home. 

He paid for the calculator, and as he walked out of the store he decided that instead of being late to get back, it would probably be better to be early. He walked down the street and spotted a very familiar dragon skin coat, the girls walking out of what looked like a lingerie store. Harry debated with himself if he should try and prank them, but decided against it. He didn’t have time for it to be a good one, so he might as well not do it. 

He walked on with a quick pace, so as to not interrupt the two women. 

Tonks had been smirking a lot since Susan had admitted that she wanted to buy a bikini for Ginny to use on the terrace. Susan was completely red-faced when the cashier had pointed out to her the one she had picked out might not fit her and had forced Susan to admit it was for a friend. Tonks had barely been able to contain her laughter when the cashier had asked if Susan was certain of the correct measurements for her _friend_ , which had left Susan stammering.

Tonks had stepped in at that point and sent a superior sort of glare towards the cashier with the clear message of _keep your nose where it belongs._ Susan had sent Tonks a grateful and relieved look when they left the store. 

Tonks had barely walked down the step, when she paused, looking at the receding back of a blond long-haired man. Something about him had been familiar, too familiar. Like she knew who he was, but couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Everything alright?” she heard Susan from behind her, having barely registered that the girl had bumped into her. 

“It’s nothing, just thought I saw someone I knew,” Tonks shrugged. _Constant vigilance!_ Mad-eye Moody’s voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Harry had been close enough to overhear what she had said. 

_That was close_ , he thought, _I need to be better at disguises if Tonks can realise it’s me from a glance._

Harry arrived back at the flat with a few minutes to spare. Amelia didn’t look like she had moved in the past half hour. She was sitting with a book open across her lap, serenely sleeping. He moved quietly towards her and removed the book and got a blanket for her and draped it over her legs. 

_Maybe I should offer her to massage her feet when she wakes up,_ Harry thought to himself. _She certainly deserves some more pampering._

He moved to the study after having removed his disguise. He had just gotten the calculator out of the bag, when he heard Amelia’s voice from the living room.

“Harry, you there?” 

He walked out of the study and looked down at her. 

“Yeah, I’m back,” he said.

“Good, good,” Amelia nodded. 

“I was thinking, maybe you would like a foot massage?” Harry tried to ask off-handedly. 

“That would be lovely,” Amelia smiled up at him. 

Harry smiled back down at her and rushed down the stairs.

“You sure, you want to do this?” Amelia raised an eyebrow when he sat down on the floor near her footstool. 

“I’m sure,” Harry smiled at her. “You have done so much for me during these weeks. I just want to repay you for that.”

“I did not think that you would try to bribe me as well,” Amelia smirked.

“I would never,” Harry said in mock-offense. “I’ll leave all the bribery to Tonks.”

Amelia laughed at that before she drew in a sharp breath as Harry began massaging one foot.

“Bear with it,” Harry said with a small smile. “It will get better.”

“I know,” Amelia groaned as he loosened up the muscles in her foot. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “Ran into Tonks and Susan too. They were coming out of an underwear shop. I thought I got away in time, but I think Tonks found out it was me. It’s embarrassing.”

Amelia chuckled between pained breaths and sighs of relief. 

“If you ever manage to make a disguise where she doesn’t realise it is you, I will be impressed,” she mused.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Harry asked. 

“She knows you the best,” Amelia said. “Not just your appearance, but your walk, your expressions, your body language. Between her training as an Auror, her own abilities, and her… let me say her special concern for you, she would probably recognize you anywhere.”

“Maybe,” Harry said, still thinking of paying back Tonks for past transformation surprises. “It would be fun though if I could manage to prank her with it.”

“Indeed,” Amelia agreed. 

They fell into silence, which was only interrupted by the grunts and groans from Amelia as Harry silently sat and released the tension in her feet. There was no reason to talk between them. Harry watched as the crease between Amelia’s brows was smoothed out the longer he continued. She looked completely relaxed by the time he felt he was done. 

“Thank you,” Amelia said. “It’s going to be alright.”

“I know,” Harry said. “Now please forgive me, I think I shall go start sulking.”

“I will,” Amelia laughed softly as she looked in his eyes. “But I am not sure the other two witches will.”

Harry let out a dramatic, defeated groan as he walked back upstairs to start on his project. He only resurfaced when Susan came to get him for dinner, having spent hours looking over spells and arithmancy calculations to make his enchantment work. 

“You spent your entire day _in here_?” she asked.

“No,” Harry admitted. 

“What are you working on?” Susan seemed genuinely interested.

“Just a little side project,” Harry said. “Something _she_ would love. Maybe I can use it as a birthday present.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a calculator.”

“What’s that?” she looked surprised as they walked down the stairs.

“Super abacus,” Harry grinned thinking back to how he’d had to explain it to Amelia. 

“Why would you need that?” Susan asked with a frown. 

“It makes Arithmancy calculations a lot easier and faster,” Harry smiled. “It’s just something _she_ would like. Maybe, she will still like? I don’t know.”

Susan looked at him sympathetically at the way he avoided saying Hermione’s name. She knew he was right. She would definitely love a super abacus to use in Arithmancy. 

“You okay?” she asked. 

“Eh? Jealous,” Harry admitted. “I might just become a foul git looking at your happiness.” 

Susan chuckled for a bit until she realised he was serious.

“You wouldn’t?” she looked at him with concern.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged his shoulders. “You and Ginny are so happy together, it’s a real kick in the teeth for me right now. Don’t worry, I honestly want you to have a great time with her. It’s just … don’t expect ‘all sunshine and rainbows’ Harry. I may stay in the study or my room a bit extra.”

“I never expect ‘all sunshine and rainbows’ Harry,” Susan teased, earning her a bout of tickling as Tonks walked in the door of the study. 

“What’s going on?” Tonks asked.

“Susan, here tells me, she never expects me to be all sunshine and rainbows,” Harry said in his best mock-offended tone.

“Well, I can’t see it either,” Tonks went straight for the jugular.

“That does it,” Harry said and attacked the pink-haired witch, tickling her until she was crying.

“Stop, stop, I give,” she panted leaning against his chest.

“No more telling me I’m broody all the time?” Harry asked, still holding her in his arms.

“Well, you are,” Tonks teased before instantly regretting it, when she felt Harry’s fingers tickle her sides once more.

“No - no - Don’t… you are … a … ray … of sunshine,” Tonks managed to breathe out between fits of giggles.

Tonks’ hair was plastered to her face as she breathed deeply holding on to his t-shirt trying to regain her breath. 

“Dinner,” Amelia said from downstairs. “Come on, you lot.”

Susan helped Tonks and Harry up from the floor where they had been sitting, and they went downstairs to join the dinner table. 

Susan woke up early. Ginny was coming today. Everything had been ready practically since Susan received the owl. Harry had spent most of his time either training or working on his projects in the study. She didn’t understand the details of what he was working on but decided maybe she didn’t need to. Not that it mattered today, since Tonks would be going to collect her girlfriend just before lunch. 

She had never felt freer in her relationship. It was common knowledge in the flat that they were together, and she could at least somewhat openly kiss Ginny. She did want to be sensitive to the fact that Harry would be reminded of Hermione. Tonks presented a different challenge with unrequited love, but she didn’t want to hurt her either, especially after Tonks had been so generous with her time and company preparing for Ginny’s visit. Tonks was Susan’s ice cream sister now, and she could not risk that. 

“Ahh,” Susan sighed. 

“What’s wrong, dear?” Amelia said from her favourite chair. 

“I just realised that I might have to keep my relationship a little subdued for different reasons right now.”

“Right,” Amelia said. “Well, please try to remember it has nothing to do with who you are seeing, but more the general fact that you are able to be with the one you love.” 

“That’s something at least,” Susan smiled.

“Oh, and please for the sake of all our sanity, do use a silencing charm on your bedroom,” Amelia teased.

“Yup,” Tonks yawned from the stairs as she came down. “I am not staying up all night listening to young witches squealing across the hall… for the love of magic itself, is there any coffee?” 

“Harry has got it ready in the kitchen,” Amelia said.

“Sorry, Susan, but I agree with Tonks,” Harry shouted teasingly from the kitchen. “Too much information.”

He levitated a mug of coffee up over the counter into Tonks’ hands. 

She sent a sweet smile as thanks before sipping the contents.

“You are all horrible,” Susan grimaced, which only made them laugh. 

“Come now, dear,” Amelia smiled. “We are all just jealous of you.”

“I know, she _is_ amazing,” Susan said with a wide smile.

“I bet she is,” Amelia nodded, as Harry brought her light breakfast to her chair. 

“Bringing home your girlfriend officially,” Harry said with pretend seriousness. “Big day.”. 

“Oh shut it,” Susan groaned. 

Harry and Amelia just laughed at her reaction. 

Susan was pestering Tonks to go get Ginny all morning until Tonks finally gave up and agreed to go earlier than planned and see if Ginny was ready.

“And don’t you dare delay!” Susan said with a menacing glare.

“I wouldn’t,” Tonks looked offended.

“None of us believes that,” Harry assured her from his place on the couch. “No ice cream detours this time. The best bribe you can give Ginny is probably bringing her directly here.”

“I don’t go bribing everybody,” Tonks scoffed.

Harry just raised his eyebrows comically and slowly nodded.

Tonks groaned one last time before heading to the fireplace and floo’ed to the Burrow. 

“Excited?” Harry asked Susan, who was standing looking at the fireplace grate, waiting with her hands twisting in front of her. 

“Very,” she nodded. “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Sure,” Harry smiled reassuringly. “Worst case scenario, I just disappear into the study.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks, Harry. Loads.” 

Harry sat back closing his eyes, calming his own feelings. 

The fireplace lit up again almost immediately. Harry just opened his eyes to see Ginny bolt past him and Amelia, then slam into Susan with an eager embrace. 

“Well, hello there Ginny,” Harry called from the couch. 

“Somebody was waiting with her bag packed by the fireplace, ready to go early,” Tonks said as she emerged from the fire, carrying Ginny’s forgotten bag. “Guess she was in a hurry for some reason.”

Ginny disentangled herself from Susan and smiled with unaccustomed shyness.

“Well, that is one way to introduce yourself,” Amelia said slightly amused. “I’m Amelia Bones, Susan’s aunt.”

“I know, I was at your wedding,” Ginny said nervously. 

“So, I’ve heard,” Amelia with her trademark neutral smile. 

“Harry _told them_ ,” Susan groaned with a loud whisper in Ginny’s ear. Ginny did not blush, but instead went so pale you could see every tiny freckle in clear relief.

If looks could kill, Harry would be dead where he sat. Instead, he just grinned at her. 

“Lovely to see you, too.”

“Molly was trying to ask all sorts of questions about you,” Tonks said she gratefully reacquainted herself with her oversized mug of coffee. 

“I bet, she was,” Harry groaned. “Something about how I should stay at the Burrow or something?”

“I expect,” Tonks nodded. “Didn’t wait around to find out.”

“Well, Ginny can tell her I appreciate the invitation, but I enjoy being here with Tonks. I also don’t think it would be good for me to go out in the open, at least not yet.”

“You can tell her yourself,” Ginny stuck out her tongue at him.

“Weren’t you supposed to report back to her about me?” Harry lifted his eyebrow.

“I guess,” Ginny said.

“Okay, that should be enough introductions,” Susan said as she pulled Ginny towards the stairs. 

“Should we expect you down for lunch?” Harry asked politely.

“Shut it, Potter,” Susan called over the banister shutting her door firmly. 

“Please remember to use a silencing charm,” Harry asked the heavens dramatically.

“Don’t mind them,” Susan said as she pushed the door closed behind her, looking at Ginny, finally here, in her room, at last. “They are just jealous.”

Ginny giggled. It was nice seeing the way they teased Susan for bringing her home. It was refreshing not having to hide from anyone. It was normal, almost like her brothers teased one another. She looked around the room and noticed the colour on the walls.

“Why this colour?” she asked, suddenly nervous after being apart for what seemed like so long.

“Well, the idiot asked what colour reminded me of you, and then he put it there,” Susan felt a little embarrassed admitting it.

She had looked down for a bit but then she felt a pair of soft hands on her chin, pulling her into a fiery kiss.

“I love it,” Ginny’s husky voice growled in her ear.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Susan said as she tightened her embrace.

“Me too,” Ginny nodded resting her head on Susan’s shoulder. 

Susan enjoyed the intimacy for a second before she yelped as Ginny had reached down and squeezed her bum. 

“Mmm,” Ginny said, licking her lips. “I missed this.”

“Me? Or my bum” Susan teased.

“Oh, why choose? I could just eat you up!”

“So, no lunch?” Susan asked, feeling herself getting turned on.

“No lunch,” Ginny said, pulling Susan towards the bed and throwing her onto it. 

Susan giggled and reached for her wand on her bedside table. 

_“Silencio Theca”_ Susan said as she pointed towards the door. “I don’t want them to complain when I make you squeal.” 

“Not if I make you squeal first,” Ginny said as she placed herself on top of Susan's thighs. She loved the sundress Susan was wearing, and the way her hair spreading out under her made her look like a spring fairy. 

Ginny leaned down and kissed Susan behind her ear. She loved the sounds her girlfriend made as she ran her fingers over her breasts, or when her lips found the sensitive spots. Ginny leaned in and trailed a path of soft kisses down Susan’s neck drawing out moans with each touch. She felt Susan grab her head and pull her up, needing to kiss her. She tasted the softness of Susan’s lips as she felt more than heard the tiny gasps escaping from her girlfriend’s mouth. She traced her tongue over Susan’s lips and felt them part to give her access. Ginny’s tongue twirled slowly around Susan’s as her hands caressed Susan’s cheeks, neck, and body. She pulled herself away and looked down on Susan as she savoured the flushed expression of desire on her lover’s face. 

“I’ve missed you,” Ginny whispered.

She slowly leaned down and gently kissed Susan before even more slowly, teasingly, moving her lips and tongue down the side of her chin to her neck, where she nipped and kissed the sensitive skin. She felt Susan’s hands, one touching her neck, the other firmly planted on her hip, pulling them closer. Ginny gently tugged at the strings holding together the dress over Susan’s shoulders, then pulling the dress downwards, uncovering Susan’s braless breasts. Being rather larger than Ginny, Susan rarely went without a bra, so Ginny knew this was a sort of welcome, just for her.

Ginny took in the sight of Susan’s breasts, were unbound from their captivity, and she smiled greedily as she took one of Susan’s nipples in her mouth, playing with the other with her fingers. Susan’s thighs were rubbing together as Ginny caressed her breast. Susan’s moans were growing louder and louder as Ginny found the spots she knew would send Susan towards the edge. She pulled the dress down further, sliding her body down Susan’s as she kissed her way over the soft swell of Susan’s belly. She kissed Susan’s navel, briefly teasing it on her way further down, Susan was lifting up to help Ginny pull the dress off completely. 

Ginny gasped when she found that Susan hadn’t been wearing any underwear at all. 

“Like your surprise?” Susan asked, panting for breath. 

“Love it,” Ginny grinned with enthusiasm as she pulled the dress off of Susan’s legs. 

She moved boldly between Susan’s legs, and Susan held her thighs tightly against Ginny’s shoulders, shivering, as Ginny kissed the soft strip of hair above Susan’s folds. Ginny waited for a moment, letting Susan relax her grip on Ginny’s shoulder so that she could lower her mouth further. Ginny deliberately guided her tongue along the dewy, coral-coloured flesh, savouring the taste, the texture, the aroused scent, even the sound of Susan’s moans as Ginny felt Susan’s thighs flex and relax over, again and again, pressing tightly against her shoulders. 

Ginny’s tongue found that joyful, playful button, eager to be kissed and even nibbled, which sent Susan shivering against the bed. Ginny kept slowly circling it as she increased the pressure slowly, just as she knew Susan loved. She felt Susan’s hands in her hair, tightening and keeping her head firmly in place as if there was anywhere on earth Ginny would have rather been.

 _That’s my girl,_ Ginny sang to herself as she pushed Susan over the edge and felt every muscle in her girlfriend’s body grow taut. _That’s my sweet, sweet girl._

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Susan whispered from under her.

Susan grabbed the still-dressed witch and pulled her up towards her. “We needed to get rid of these clothes. Traditional clothes! They make it such a hurdle to undress your witch…”

Ginny’s laughter hampered her efforts to help pull her robes over her head and reveal a deceptively innocent set white set of cotton underwear, which Susan found charming while they were also driving her mad with desire. She reached around to open the clasp to the cotton bra, a tiny pink bow between the cups indicating that they contained a present. This released the pale, perky breasts from their restraint as Susan pulled Ginny under her. 

“You know, I was rather specific with the design of my bed,” Susan commented with a teasing smile. “Just so I could do this.” 

She grabbed her wand and two restraining charms tied Ginny’s arms to the bedposts.

“Tell me, if you don’t like it okay?” Susan said with a loving look in her eyes.

Ginny had been surprised, but she soon felt unexpected excitement well up inside. 

“I don’t mind,” she whispered, her eyes shining with anticipation for the next development. 

“Good,” Susan said, licking her lips. She leaned down and kissed Ginny’s neck, which made the redhead gasp from the sensation. She was pulling against her restraints as Susan moved down from her neck and began idly tracing her fingers around Ginny’s pale pink nipples. 

“Don’t tease me,” Ginny pleaded, but the look in her eyes belied her craving for more. 

“You were such a _good girl_ before,” Susan leaned down to kiss her soft, creamy skin. 

Susan felt Ginny shiver under her lips before she gently raised her head again to look into Ginny’s brown eyes. 

“Please,” Ginny begged.

“Are you a _good girl_ now?” Susan teased before kissing another part of Ginny’s breast, avoiding the area around her nipples. 

“I’m a good girl,” Ginny moaned. “I’m _your_ good girl. Only your good girl.”

“That’s more like it,” Susan said before her tongue swirled around one of Ginny’s nipples, adding fuel to the fires growing some ways below her navel. 

Ginny made small, cute moans whenever Susan’s tongue moved across her skin. Susan watched as Ginny involuntarily pulled at her restraints.

She continued kissing down Ginny’s stomach until her face reached the white panties. She ran a finger across the fabric, then brushed her lips across them, pulling back only to look teasingly at Ginny, who was using her legs to raise herself up towards Susan’s face. 

“We can’t have any of that, my _good girl_ ,” Susan said as she pulled off Ginny’s panties and pointed her wand to restrain Ginny’s legs as well. 

Susan couldn’t control the desire she felt when she heard Ginny’s seductive whimpers. Ginny was clearly wet, ready for whatever was coming, and eager for it to begin.

“What do you want me to do, Love?” Susan teased, kissing Ginny’s thighs.

She looked up to find Ginny struggling with whether she should say anything out loud. She was blushing, but there was something in her eyes which told Susan that Ginny very much enjoyed what was happening.

Susan moved up and put her lips next to Ginny’s ear and whispered.

“ _What do you…”_ She trailed a finger down from Ginny’s chin all the way past her navel, pausing to ask “ _want … me… to… do… my… good… girl?_ ” 

She gently bit Ginny’s earlobe, rolling the skin between her teeth and tongue, making the smaller witch’s body move as much as she was allowed to by the four restraints tying her to the bedposts.

“I want to cum,” Ginny whispered, at last, overwhelmed. “I want you to eat me out, to kiss me and lick and bite me, just please take me, please, and make me cum… _please.”_

Ginny lost the power to speak further, whimpering and twisting into her bonds with no intent of escape.

“Always,” Susan whispered in a seductive tone as she kissed her way down Ginny’s body and dove between her legs, using her tongue and fingers to pleasure Ginny under her caressing touch. Ginny’s moans instantly grew louder and louder, then rose past hearing to an inaudible whine, stimulated beyond her ability to give voice, until she finally clenched herself tightly around Susan’s fingers, and screamed, a full-throated howl of a scream. 

Susan removed the restraints and crawled up next to Ginny, rolling her lover over and curling around her protectively. Ginny was as compliant as a rag-doll, boneless and languid. Susan leaned her head forward and kissed the top of Ginny’s head.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” Susan said cautiously.

“Are you kidding?” Ginny looked up, wide-eyed and glistening with a sheen of sweat. She captured Susan’s lips with her own. She then collapsed again, still panting softly as her heartbeat finally began to slow.

“ _Good girl,”_ Susan purred, holding her tighter still.

She felt Ginny’s body respond to the words.

“It really isn’t fair when you call me that,” Ginny said as she cuddled closer to Susan like a kitten. 

“Call you what?” Susan teased.

“You know... _that,_ ” Ginny pouted.

“ _Good girl?_ ” Susan smirked as Ginny couldn’t help biting her own lip and nodding. 

“It sends a shiver down my spine,” Ginny said as she rolled the pair of them over and climbed on top once more.

“Well, I can stop if you want,” Susan teased looking into those loving brown eyes. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ginny said before sinking her teeth into Susan’s shoulder. 

Susan gasped for breath as she felt the slightly painful sensation both in her shoulder but also the longing in her crotch. 

“You are being a rather _bad girl_ right now,” Susan commented as she smacked Ginny’s butt. 

Ginny moaned as the hand connected.

“Then punish me,” she dared, as she leaned down and deliberately bit Susan’s lip.

Harry hadn’t seen a hint of either Susan or Ginny all afternoon. He chuckled to himself figuring that they were getting ‘ _reacquainted’_ with each other. He decided that he’d prepare something fresh, a lighter meal tonight, as a change from Mrs. Weasley’s traditionally solid fare. He wanted to at least do his part to make Ginny feel welcome. 

Ginny’s trunk was parked outside Susan’s room since they hadn’t bothered bringing it in before they disappeared. 

Tonks had been sitting in the kitchen watching him and making some small talk. Mostly about the planning for their excursions during these days when Ginny was here. Tonks was certain Ginny and Susan had never gone to the cinema or even seen a film before. So, she was adamant that they make a trip there. Harry hadn’t had any particular reason to go against it. It would be highly unlikely for Death Eaters to show up in the cinema since it was so thoroughly Muggle. 

“You can find a film then,” Harry said. “I don’t know what young witches like.” 

“Yes, Boss!” Tonks mock-saluted. 

Amelia was sleeping a lot more and had been down most of the afternoon, leaving the two of them alone. They had sparred once before really mostly enjoying the rest of the afternoon sitting on the terrace together. Privately, each felt the other one was wearing way too little. Tonks had been staring fixedly at Harry’s butt and abs until she had managed to tear her eyes away, but she would still casually steal glances at him from her own deck chair. 

_I should not have done this,_ she thought to herself, but it almost felt like their home again, just being there in each other's company. 

She allowed herself a small smile as she focused back on her surroundings.

“You were going to the Ministry tonight, right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Tonks sighed. “Scrimgeour would only let me take the next couple of days off if I pulled a night shift tonight.”

“You are a good person, Tonks.” Harry smiled as he got up to go finish dinner, the last rays of the sun were falling behind the surrounding buildings, making the terrace a little cool for sunbathing, as well as a little dark. He paused. “You’ll be careful tonight?”

Tonks looked down to hide her grin. “Just on-call, nothing planned. Desk duty, really.”

“Good. Well, dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes,” Harry said. “Could you go gather the troops?” 

“You want me to wake up a pregnant woman and disturb two randy teenagers?” Tonks gasped in mock-horror, grabbing her wrap from beside her chair.

“You would like for me to go and disturb them instead?” Harry lifted his eyebrow. “We don’t want a repeat of what happened between me and Susan the other day. We’ll split it. You rouse the girls, I’ll wake Amelia when I get downstairs.”

“Fair,” Tonks grimaced as she got up from the table.

Tonks had seemed really happy and relaxed today, and he was sad the afternoon was over. 

He had gotten what started as a silly idea, which he had been playing with inside his head all afternoon. It had actually entered his mind when Tonks had asked him for ideas for decorating her room. He knew she had been teasing him with the number of colours she had asked for, but at the same time Tonks’ wasn’t a woman who could settle for just one colour at the best of times. So. he had been thinking about transfigurations, mixed with rune clusters, that he could enchant to make her walls mimic her hair colour whenever she changed it, wherever she was. 

He had gotten the idea from Mrs. Weasley’s clock, which showed the state of her family. It worked remotely, so he was sure he could find a way for him to do the same with Tonks’s walls. If she didn’t like it, he could always remove it again, and it would have served as a great prank. If she did like it then maybe it was just the thing to cheer her up right now. 

He had carefully woken Amelia and was quietly going over the different steps in his mind when the four witches joined him in the kitchen. 

_Whoever thought living with only witches would be a wizard's dream needed to think things through,_ Harry mused to himself. He was missing the company of a few fellow wizards right about now. 

“Great Merlin, they live!” Harry smirked at the two youngest. 

“Shut it,” Susan barked at him, but the smile on her face and the slightly messy hair which was hastily made to look normal told the truth of her current feelings. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Harry mock-saluted, much to the amusement of everyone around him.

They sat down to eat, and Tonks introduced the idea of them going to the cinema, which made Susan frown in puzzlement and Ginny smile 

“It’s like a wizard-photo with sound,” Ginny tried to explain. “My brothers went once with my father, but I was too little and they wouldn’t take me.”

“Oh, okay,” Susan shrugged. 

“We can spend the day exploring Muggle London and then go there in the evening,” Tonks said with a smile. 

“Sure,” Ginny said with a smile. She hadn’t been to London much, so it was all new and exciting for her. She leaned over to Susan and whispered, “ _The cinema takes hours, and you sit in the dark!”_

Susan looked substantially more interested in the idea.

After the meal, Tonks got up and groaned. 

“Well, I’m off to work then,” she said. 

Harry went to hug her and whispered, “Be safe, okay?”

“Definitely,” she smiled as she hugged him quickly before leaving.

Harry watched as she left using the floo, to avoid the apparition restrictions that had been increased as part of security at the ministry. He ruffled his hair, distracted. 

_Yeah, she is definitely bothered by something_ , he sighed. 

“You two heading off on your own?” Harry asked as he spotted Ginny and Susan walking towards the stairs.

“Yeah,” Susan said with unconvincing casualness. “Goodnight, everyone.”

Harry shook his head and sent a rueful glance towards Amelia, who just serenely smiled from her seat at the dinner table.

“You doing alright, Auntie?” Harry asked.

“Yes, yes,” Amelia said. “I’m just exhausted. I can’t wait for this little wizard or witch to make their appearance.”

Harry chuckled a bit at that. 

“Well, the addition of a little one will certainly bring new life to the flat,” Harry nodded.

“Indeed,” Amelia smiled fondly as she rubbed her belly. “What are your plans for the evening?”

“You know how Tonks spent ages deciding on a colour for her room?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah, I think she was just pulling your leg though.”

“Well, maybe, but I also think she really would enjoy it if it could change according to her mood like her hair,” Harry grinned. “I think I might have found the right combination of Runework and Charms to make the walls in her room mimic the colour of her hair. I just need her to activate it herself when she gets back, so it is keyed to her magic.”

Amelia’s eyes widened. He probably had no idea just how advanced his project this time was, and even if he did, he would deny it every step of the way. 

“Impressive,” Amelia smiled. “And unorthodox, too.”

“I got the idea from a clock Mrs. Weasley has, it shows the current condition of the Weasleys no matter where they are,” Harry said. “I think I can make it work. She’s seemed a little down these days, so I just wanted to do something nice for her. I should be able to get it done by the time she gets back from her nightshift.”

“I see,” Amelia smirked. “Before you go work on that, could you help me to my chair? Also if I could bother you to make me a cup of tea.” 

“Of course, Auntie,” Harry smiled as he moved closer to help her move from one place to another. He then went to the kitchen and grabbed the _Dogfather_ mug, which he knew Amelia loved the most. 

Soon Amelia was getting comfortable, already opening a book. This time it was a romance novel about a vampire, who fell in love with a pureblood witch and had a werewolf love-rival. 

Harry could only shake his head at the content, but then again if it entertained Amelia it didn’t matter. 

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yes, quite,” Amelia smiled as she dove into the book. 

Harry moved up to Tonks’s room. He felt a little apprehension as he opened the door. He hadn’t been in here more than once or twice since he helped decorate it. 

It had her scent as he walked in, and definitely her clutter, too. He shook his head. Clothes, shoes, and boots were strewn around the room in chaos.

“Well, it is better than it happening all over the flat,” Harry muttered to himself as he got to work. 

Tonks hated the night shift. It wasn’t hard for her to stay up all night, her natural schedule was night-owl, but having to be on call for issues with low-life riff-raff was grueling. She had gotten called for a brawl which threatened to turn into a duel, or vice versa, in a wizarding pub which had been so chaotic that she hadn’t known who was fighting who by the time she arrived with her team. She was happy when the clock turned seven and she was off-duty. She might be able to get some sleep before they were headed out into the city later. 

She trudged off towards the floo and muttered her place. She found Harry in the kitchen when she stepped out of the fireplace. 

“I’m home,” she said tiredly. 

“Welcome home,” Harry said. “Do you want food and coffee, or bed and sleep?”

“Can I choose coffee and sleep? No, seriously I’m fine. Maybe some food later.”

“Okay, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Harry said as he put the tea-towel down.

“For me?” Tonks looked puzzled. 

“Yeah,” Harry said as he walked her towards the stairs. “I know you’re tired, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Tonks frowned, but the excitement of a surprise made her feel a little more awake. She followed Harry until they were standing in front of her room.

“It’s inside,” Harry said with a small smile.

“You went in my room?” She was hastily thinking if there was anything incriminating he might have seen, but then she realised everything really incriminating was in her heart, or her head, not her room. She opened the door, she looked around but didn’t notice anything different.

“What is it?” she frowned.

“Touch here,” Harry said as he pointed towards a specific place on the wall. 

Tonks did as she was asked, half expecting for this to be a prank. She really wasn’t in the mood for one even if it was from Harry. She touched the wall and waited, but nothing seemed to happen.

“What is it that’s supposed to—”

She stopped as Harry reached forward and put both of his hands in her hair. He ran his fingers through, from scalp to the tip of each strand, from the front of her head to the nape of her neck. Her eyes closed, and she may have accidentally let a small moan escape from her lips. She was reacting, very physically, in a way she was not prepared for. She was glad that she always wore a sturdy sports bra on night duty in case of fights, as it also helped conceal what her nipples were suddenly doing under her shirt.

“There!” Harry’s hands left her head, and she wobbled slightly on her feet, almost following after them with her head. She opened her eyes and noticed that her hand was tingling where it touched the wall. It had been all since he’d started whatever it was he’d done, but she had been… distracted.

The colour of her walls changed to match the dull green of her hair from work. She looked around and saw bright red areas in the corners, and sure enough, her hair was blushing furiously at the end of each strand where Harry had touched her. She looked around in amazed silence.

“You don’t have to touch anymore,” Harry said softly. “Try changing your hair colour.”

Tonks focused with her eyes closed, it was usually harder when she was tired. This time, when she decided on his favourite bright pink, it was very easy.

When she opened her eyes, she gasped. The walls had changed into the same bubblegum pink as her hair. She looked at the grin on Harry’s face. She loved it. 

She didn’t pause to think before she was hugging him and going in for a big kiss on the cheek. She also didn’t realise that she had hugged him hard enough to turn his head, so her lips which had been aiming for his cheek hit his lips, just on the edge of them. 

She panicked and released him, rushing towards her bed, and she hid her face in her pillow. It wasn’t as disastrous as a full-on snog, but she had absolutely not meant to kiss Harry Potter, not on his mouth, his lips, his soft but… Had she? No, no, she had been aiming for his cheek and he moved! She had made a stupid mistake because of a mixture of tiredness and happiness. She knew that the room must be scarlet red at this point judging from the way her face was burning. She lay there waiting until she would inevitably hear his footsteps and the door closing, finding herself alone in her room.

She was surprised to feel the mattress depress a little from his weight when he laid down next to her. She snuck a peek at him with wide eyes, not really sure what was going on.


	9. Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possibly one of the chapters where it is hard to tell my parts from Waske's- we were sort of in synch at this time, if I recall.
> 
> • Harry and Tonks deal with the Snorckack in the Room  
> • Ginny and Susan help Harry with some duelling practice  
> • Sunbathing and smoothies (not a euphemism)  
> • One of the Wizarding world's more awkward double dates  
> • French cuisine and high fashion  
> • Gary Oldman, who looks a LOT like Sirius Black, actually...  
> • "It would be rude to push her away."

**Chapter 9**. **Beloved**

Harry watched in confusion as Tonks threw herself on the bed. 

_What just happened?_

He barely registered the changing colour on the wall. He felt an almost-queasy, almost-expectant emotion, centered in his stomach. His finger traced the part of his lips where they had touched hers. 

_That really just happened._ He felt a headache coming, but also a tiny, frightening wisp of hope. _No matter what, I need to talk to her about this._

Harry moved forward and sat down near her. He had expected her to look up at him, but when she didn’t, he slowly laid down next to her. He looked up at the scarlet ceiling. He felt her move slightly as he stretched out. She was probably staring at him right now.

 _It’s not like I have a clue about what to do,_ he thought. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the words.

“I’m sorry,” he heard her say.

“No, no,” he quickly said. “You don’t have to apologize. I was just … surprised.” 

Tonks sulked into her pillow once more. _Couldn’t he have said something different than surprised? ‘Surprised’ isn’t a good thing. He might as well have said ‘shocked’ or ‘revolted.’_

“You know, I remember when you first picked me up from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters,” Harry mused. “I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I was only twelve. I was just so happy that I didn’t have to go back to _them_.”

 _I know how young you were,_ Tonks thought.

“When you showed me the flat … for the first time in my life I felt like, ‘so, this is home’,” Harry continued. “Hogwarts was also a kind of home, but it never felt like my own … you know? So many people around, the bullying, the way people would look at me and talk. I have had enough adventures in that castle to shame anyone in the history of Hogwarts.” 

He heard a muffled laugh and was reassured that she was at least listening to him. 

“So this was the first place where I could actually relax. Even when it was bad, you were always here to take care of me, but I was here to take care of you, too. You used to check on me every night. I didn’t let on, but I knew. I could never really sleep until you had. We helped each other. I remember you trying to cook, you would have had us eat take-away at every meal— ouch.” 

Tonks had elbowed Harry’s side in embarrassment. 

“I remember the first time I had a nightmare in this flat. Like a proper terrible one.” Harry looked affectionately at the witch beside him. “I woke up in the middle of the night, it was just over a year ago now. I had dreamed about the night _he_ came back —I shot a spell after you, but you didn’t run away. No, you just made sure I wouldn’t curse you, and then you came to hold me. I never properly thanked you for that.” 

Harry extended his hand and played with the red hair tips. He really enjoyed the way they would turn pink at his touch. Unnoticed around them, pink streaks began filling the walls of the room, from the corners inwards.

Tonks was still staring fixedly into her pillow fighting against tears.

“You know, even before Sirius was gone, before he was even here, and even before … Hermione … well even then, I think you were the one to care about me most in this world,” Harry reminisced. “You are special to me.” 

Tonks felt the way his hand caressed her hair. She didn’t know why it was so soothing, but she was becoming relaxed. 

“What I wanted to say, is that you are important to me and I could never hate you or feel angry or upset with you, or something that happened between us…” Harry said.

“What’s going on in there?” he heard Susan’s voice from the doorway. “Is she okay?”

Harry didn’t look up but called softly back to Susan. 

“It’s nothing really. We were just talking about when I first moved here. A lot has happened since.”

“Can’t argue there,” Susan replied. “Well, we’ll let you two be then. Breakfast?” 

“I’ll be down shortly,” Harry said as he heard the two girls make their way towards the staircase. He was just about to get up when he felt a hand around his wrist. 

“Don’t go,” he heard a soft voice from the pillow. 

“I can stay here until you fall asleep then,” Harry whispered as he once again ran his fingers through her hair. She rolled to her side facing away from him.

He didn’t see the satisfied smile on her face. 

“Well, all I want you to know is that I always believe in you, and I _know_ that you will always take care of me, and I feel the same about you,” Harry finished, letting silence descend between them.

He never stopped moving his hand through her hair, and soon he heard the deep breaths of someone who had fallen asleep. 

Harry slowly got up from the bed trying his best not to wake her. He looked around the room. It was a plethora of colours. Red, pink, even emerald green. It was a horrible mix of colours, yet so very her. He looked down at her peaceful expression. He covered her in a blanket, kissed her on the side of her forehead, and made his way downstairs to start his day, closing the door behind him.

 _What am I doing?!_ Harry screamed inside his head. _Why did I have to go kiss her?!_ He ran his hand across his face. _What about Hermione? She wouldn’t like for you to do that. She would feel betrayed._

 _Would she?_ a nasty voice in his head sneered. _It’s not like she remembers you. So how can she feel betrayed?_

Harry wrapped his hand around the silver chain on his arm. He had never taken it off. It was just part of him now. He hadn’t taken it off, even when wearing his disguise. It was inconspicuous, but also a critical reminder to himself of who he was.

 _Maybe I should tie it around my neck when I am in disguise_ , he thought to distract himself from other thoughts.

“Harry, you coming?” he heard Susan’s voice from downstairs. 

“Yeah,” Harry roused himself out of his stupor. 

“Where’s Tonks?” Ginny asked.

“She just came home from a shift,” Harry said. “She won’t be worth anything before a few good hours of sleep. She’ll be up by this afternoon.”

“Oh right, I forgot.”

“What are your plans for today?” Amelia asked. 

“I was thinking that I would show Ginny the terrace,” Susan said. “It might be a little cool, but looking over the street in the morning sun is nice.”

“That’s a good idea,” Amelia nodded. 

“Erm… maybe you could help me with my training for a little? I could really use a workout,” Harry inquired. 

“This jock…” Susan shook her head. “What do you think?”

“I haven’t been able to use my magic freely around my mum, so I would love to work out for a bit.” Ginny pondered.

“I keep forgetting you are one of the active ones as well,” Susan grimaced. “Fine, we will help you.” 

“Thank you,” Harry smiled. “Active ones? Too much information!” 

“Don’t push it, Potter!” Susan cried, blushing as she threw a tea-towel at his head. “I meant Quidditch! She’s an athlete, like you!”

Ginny and Amelia watched in amusement at their antics. 

After breakfast, Susan pulled Ginny into their room. 

“Why do you look so exasperated?” Ginny asked.

“Ah…” Susan sighed. “It’s just Harry. He never stops training for a second. It is either muscle training or duelling or martial arts. If he doesn’t do that, he is studying everything, and I mean _everything_. He has so many projects ranging from Ancient Runes to Wizarding combat. He drives me insane sometimes.”

Ginny put a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“It can’t be that bad,” Ginny comforted her.

“Auntie had to threaten him with a full body-lock curse to make him stay still, for one afternoon,” Susan said. 

Ginny gasped at that. 

“Seriously? Why?” she asked.

“The Department of Mysteries,” Susan said shortly. “Everything about it. He just wants to be prepared for everything. Well, prepare yourself. He doesn’t pull any punches when it is a two on one.”

“You’re saying it like that is a regular occurrence.”

“More than you would think,” Susan winced. “Go on, find something easy to move in. He will show you us mercy and he doesn’t fight like a wizard. Remember the DA? He has taken moving around to a whole new level. He’ll even transfigure the terrain if it helps him.”

Susan quickly changed into a sports bra, a tank top, and tights with a pair of trainers. 

“You look incredible in that,” Ginny admired. 

“Thank you, now get changed.”

“I don’t have anything like that,” Ginny said, looking over her three outfits with a pout. 

“We can get Harry to transfigure something for you then,” Susan said. “Give me the ones you care least about.”

Ginny picked an outfit and watched as Susan walked out of the room. The Weasleys didn’t really have clothes that they cared for, not by the time they got down to the seventh child. Susan soon came back with a set of clothes similar to her own.

“These will only hold for a couple of hours at most, but that should be enough for Harry to tire… hopefully.” Susan shuddered.

Ginny was starting to feel a little apprehensive at the way Susan reacted to the description of this training. She enjoyed moving around, so maybe it was just a difference between them. 

She had _never_ been so wrong.

By the time Harry was satisfied, Ginny had been stunned four times, and she had been dodging around spells and had to retain her footing on ice or other slippery surfaces more times than she could count.

“You’re a monster,” she said darkly, as he panted on the floor. 

“Thank you both,” Harry said. 

It hadn’t been one-sided of course, Harry had gone down more times than them, and had a decent burn on one arm near his elbow, but he was always ready for another round. 

“See what I mean?” Susan pouted from her own spot on the floor. “He’s relentless. It’s better when Tonks is here, but barely.”

“I’m not _that_ bad,” Harry argued, rising to his feet.

“Yes, you are,” Susan glared up at him.

“Fine,” Harry raised his hands in surrender. “You can go take a shower… _together._ I’ll make you some refreshments for relaxation on the terrace.”

“You better go all out,” Susan said.

“Of course,” Harry smiled as he extended his hands to help them up from the floor. 

“Ginny, come on before he changes his mind.” Susan hurried her along towards the stairs. 

“Is it always like this?” 

“I think he was actually going easy on us. He can be like a dementor when Tonks is here. He sucks all the joy out of my body.” 

Ginny tried to hold in her laughter at the bitter expression Susan put on. 

“Though if he really goes all out on the snacks, it might be worth it. It’s not like it is all that bad to move around a little every day,” Susan sighed. “Go on ahead to the bathroom, I’ll be there in a second.”

“Why?” Ginny asked suspiciously. 

“It’s a surprise,” Susan kissed her quickly before shooing her through the door and turning towards her room. 

Ginny looked at her suspiciously but decided that she would find out soon enough. She headed towards the shower and turned it on. She undressed and threw her training clothes into a pile. She had worked up a good sweat, so the water felt amazing against her skin. She heard the door open and close. She heard the rustling of clothes and soon Susan joined her in the shower. She looked amazing and felt even more tempting as she felt Susan’s soft skin press against her back.

“Thank you,” Susan whispered.

“For what?” Ginny asked.

“For helping Harry,” Susan said softly. “He needs it more than you can imagine. It might actually be what keeps him together.” 

“He’s my friend too, you know,” Ginny turned her head to kiss Susan. 

They spent a bit of time playing around in the shower before they left. 

“So what is this surprise?” Ginny asked as she was drying herself off with a quick spell.

“This,” Susan handed her a plastic bag.

Ginny looked into it and her eyes went wide.

“What is this?” She asked looking up.

“A bikini, it’s Muggle, good for tanning.” 

“It barely covers more than underwear,” she pulled out the pale green bikini from the bag. “In fact, it might cover less.”

“Put it on,” Susan looked at her greedily. “You will look amazing.”

Ginny blushed but did as she was told. It fit her perfectly. It perked up her breasts a little in a very enticing way. She turned around, checking herself out in the mirror. She felt … _sexy_.

She looked at Susan, who was sporting a similar white bikini and Ginny felt herself get aroused looking at her. 

“I can see the appeal,” she whispered. 

Susan grinned and handed her a wrap for her hips. 

“I just knew the colour would look amazing for you.”

“Thank you,” Ginny blushed, still feeling rather naked even with the wrap around her hips. “Do you think I could have a t-shirt to cover my top?”

“That would be such a waste, but if it makes you more comfortable,” Susan shrugged and went to get Ginny a white t-shirt. Since it was Susan’s it was a little big on her. 

“Let me help you with that,” Susan smiled reaching for the front and tying a knot, revealing Ginny’s stomach. 

“Thank you,” Ginny leaned forward and kissed her. “You are going to go out like that?” 

“Harry probably wouldn’t even care if I walked around naked,” Susan ground her teeth. “Not like I want him to care, but don’t you think I am at least sexy enough for him to react?”

“You are sexy enough to turn me on in anything,” Ginny whispered into her ear with a sultry voice. 

“Down, Gryffindor,” Susan chastised, “at least until later.” She whispered the last part before taking Ginny’s earlobe in her ear.

“You…” Ginny groaned.

“If you are a _good girl_ , I’ll take care of you later,” Susan said as she turned around to open the door.

Ginny clenched her fists, it was tempting to just ignore it now, but that promise was _so_ enticing. 

She followed Susan up the stairs and through the training hall, which she would rather not stay in for long. Harry was nowhere in sight. She pushed open the glass doors and led Ginny into the already warm sunlight. 

“I guess, Harry isn’t done with the refreshments yet,” Susan commented just as she heard the sounds of footsteps on the stairs.

“Well, ladies, I thought this might be a nice treat for you,” Harry said, holding up two tall glasses filled with a brightly coloured liquid.

“What’s this?” Ginny asked.

“A berry banana smoothie: ice, berries, banana, a little bit of cream, all crushed up,” Harry recited, putting them down on the small table. “There’s also orange slices here, and some bites of cheese. Anything else?” 

“No, I think we‘re good,” Susan smiled. “Also, Ginny is rather self-conscious about her outfit, so if you could give us a little space at least until lunch?”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Harry teased.

“So pretty much anything is allowed?” Susan fired back.

“Touché,” Harry laughed as he walked downstairs.

“Well now you don’t have any excuse,” Susan said to Ginny. 

“You sure no one can see us here?” Ginny asked. 

“I’m sure. Fidelius Charm remember?” 

Ginny reluctantly pulled off the t-shirt and the wrap like Susan and laid down on her own reclined deck chair. She kept sending glances to her suntanned girlfriend next to her. She was sure she could never get that colour, but it looked amazing on Susan. If she could just get a fraction of the same colour, she would be happy. 

They enjoyed their time sipping on their smoothies and talking about everything and anything. They even briefly talked about their future. Ginny said she would try and go for a Quidditch career. Her biggest dream was playing for the English National team, and if she had her pick at the teams, she would try to join the Holyhead Harpies. Susan didn’t know what she wanted to do, she had always just assumed she would follow in her aunt's footsteps and join the Ministry, maybe even the DMLE. 

The sun was high in the sky and Ginny had taken about as much sun as she could for one morning, when Harry called for them from the top of the stairs. It was time for a late lunch. 

They quickly put on their wraps, and Ginny pulled the white t-shirt over her head. She felt a slight burn on her skin as the fabric fell against her body. 

“Ouch.”

“You alright?” Susan asked. 

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “Might have gotten a little burned.” 

“Oh, maybe my aunt knows something for that,” Susan said, unsure whether to hug her now.

“I’m not going to break,” Ginny said, as she pulled Susan into a bone-crushing embrace. “ _Hiss_!Okay, maybe a little.”

Susan chuckled as she shook her head. “We’ll sort you out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ginny smiled as she kissed Susan on the lips.

They went down the stairs and found a very sleepy Tonks almost stumbling towards the stairs. Susan shook her head, but she knew that Tonks was barely a functional human when she first woke up at any point in the day.

They heard a yelp and a set of bumps from the stairway as Tonks failed to navigate the steps.

Susan grimaced but rushed forward to see if she was alright.

“If you can’t even walk properly down the stairs then take some time to wake up first,” Harry’s frustrated voice rang out through the flat. 

“I’m sorry,” Tonks said. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Just a sore bum.”

“Good,” Harry sighed, helping her up from the floor. “Sorry. I was worried.”

“It takes more than a set of stairs to hurt me,” Tonks said, looking alive from the shock.

Harry flicked her forehead. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I was still worried.”

Tonks pouted visibly, but her hair betrayed her. 

“You need coffee?” Harry asked. 

“Oh yes, please!” Tonks said. Susan and Ginny had been waiting on the stairs.

“Sorry about that girls,” Tonks said, looking a little embarrassed. 

“It’s alright,” Susan grinned.

“It’s been a long time since I have seen the clumsy Tonks, it’s almost nostalgic,” Amelia said from her chair. 

“Ha… ha…” Tonks laughed self-consciously.

“That’s right, I remember the first time she went to pick me up, she managed to fall over the trolley or maybe it was her own feet,” Harry said.

“Shut up,” Tonks said. 

“Come on,” Harry ignored her. “I’ll get you some coffee, and some food – you must be starving.”

“I am,” she smiled thankfully at him as he led her to the kitchen, leaning on his arm. 

“What is up with those two?” Ginny whispered.

“Ah…” Susan sighed. “Perhaps it’s better if you don’t ask.”

“Why?” Ginny frowned. 

“Because Tonks likes Harry, and Harry doesn’t realise,” Susan whispered back. “That is even without the whole Hermione situation.”

“Oh. Wait, you mean she _likes_ him, likes him? Oh!”

“Yeah, that’s about right,” Susan said.

“You guys coming?” Harry asked, as he was helping Amelia up from her chair.

“Yes, be right there.” Susan said.

They joined them at the kitchen table with a coffee-drinking Tonks who had a contented smile on her face. 

“So, what are the plans for the afternoon?” Susan asked.

“Well, we were going to show you around Carnaby Street, maybe hit up the two parks nearby,” Harry said. “It’s a lovely neighbourhood. Maybe even do a little shopping if we feel like it? Something nicer than the usual wizards robes.” 

Ginny felt a little conflicted at that.

“If you bat your eyes at him, maybe he will treat you,” Tonks teased. “Apparently he is loaded.”

“Shut up,” Harry said. “Treat it as a birthday or Christmas present, or as me bribing Susan.” 

Susan held a hand to her forehead.

“What is it with you two bribing everybody?” she asked.

“He bribed me with a foot massage,” Amelia said.

“And she bribed me with ice cream,” Susan admitted.

“Yes, yes, alright,” Harry surrendered. “We like to keep in your good books.”

Tonks didn’t say anything, but she looked up from her mug for a second and smiled sweetly. 

“Earth to Tonks.” Susan waved a hand in front of her face.

“Huh,” Tonks looked up. 

“Never mind.” Susan shook her head. 

They were soon done with lunch, and the girls headed back to their room to change.

“I don’t have anything good to wear,” Ginny complained.

“Get Harry to transfigure something,” Susan said.

“It won’t last until the evening.”

“Maybe Tonks has something in your size, she has all sorts of sizes because she changes so much,” Susan threw out there. 

“That’s worth a try,” Ginny nodded. She left the room and headed towards Tonks’ room.

She knocked on the door.

“Yeah?” Tonks opened the door. 

“Susan said, you might have something in my size?” Ginny asked, a little embarrassed.

“Of course, come in and check,” Tonks opened the door fully. 

She wasn’t wearing more than her underwear. Ginny blushed. She hated to admit it, but Tonks had a smoking body. She wondered how much was natural, how much was her hard work, and a little enviously she thought about how much of it might be her abilities. Anyway, the results were imposing to the slender young witch.

“Everything’s in the closet is there,” Tonks said, then indicated a number of piles here and there around the room. “Oh, and here. And there. Anyhow, I have a rather _specific_ style, but I think it could look good on you. Though it might be a little too warm, however, if we cast a long-lasting cooling charm I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Ginny looked through the clothes, they were mostly black, ripped jeans her mother would never let her wear and a weird sisters t-shirt which was the smallest Tonks’ owned. 

“You can tie the front or the side in a knot like before, it will fit you that way,” Tonks said appraising the choices Ginny made. 

Ginny took the t-shirt and jeans back to Susan. 

“Oooh,” Susan’s eyes turned into lines as she smiled. “I can definitely work with that. Black is a good colour for your skin, a nice contrast to your hair.”

“Just help me will you?” Ginny begged. “I don’t know how to look good in this, all I ever wear that really fits are robes.”

Susan sent her a loving gaze as Ginny got out of her bikini and put on underwear. 

“You sure we shouldn’t do something about your burn first?” Susan asked.

“Maybe it would be for the better,” Ginny nodded. 

Susan quickly pulled another beautiful sundress over her head and walked out. Ginny felt like she waited forever before she came back.

“Harry says this should help,” Susan said. “But I think you will need some help putting it on your back.” 

“I would love for you to help put it on all of me,” Ginny said.

“I can do that,” Susan said. “Get down on the bed.”

“Oh, if you insist.”

The ointment was cooling to the skin and soon the slight redness in Ginny’s skin was fading, leaving only a healthy sheen to her skin. She still had a fair complexion, but she looked sun-kissed in a good way.

“Harry really knows his stuff doesn’t he?” Ginny said as she got dressed. She tried to tie the knot like Susan had done earlier but soon looked to her girlfriend with a defeated expression.

“I got you,” Susan said as she moved over and kissed her. 

“I love you,” Ginny whispered as she looked into those steely blue eyes, which were so Susan. She had said it before, but usually in moments of passion. It felt nice to just say it, to feel comfortable saying it like this.

“And I love you too,” Susan smiled. “Now, we should get a move on. Harry and Tonks are probably waiting.”

They went downstairs to see Tonks sporting a similar outfit to Ginny, but she was wearing her dragon skin coat. Her hair was a steely grey similar to Amelia’s which suited her so well.

They looked around.

“Where’s Harry?” Susan asked. 

“Don’t know,” Tonks shrugged her shoulders. “I assume he’ll be down in a minute.” 

“I’m here,” Harry’s voice carried down from the top of the stairs. 

Tonks' eyes went wide. Her stomach fluttered and her heart was beating so fast that at first, she felt it had stopped. 

Harry hadn’t done much to his previous disguise. He had added a well-trimmed beard and his features looked ten years older. He had left off his glasses, but his eyes were the same emerald green colour she knew so well. She couldn’t spot a scar, but his thin face was framed perfectly. 

_Fuck, he looks good with a beard._ Tonks found herself biting her lower lip slightly while she entertained some dangerous thoughts.

“I thought it would be better if I looked closer to Tonks’s age,” Harry said. “It could look like a double date of sorts, at least to everyone around us. I hope you don’t mind, Tonks.”

Susan and Ginny shared a pitying glance between themselves. 

“Your voice is still the same,” Amelia commented. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “That’s why I’m late, I was looking at a spell which changes the pitch in one of the books about disguises you got me. _Vox mutante_.” Harry pointed his wand to his throat.

“How’s this?” Harry’s voice had turned into a soft baritone.

“Mhmm,” Tonks said in a slightly husky voice. “That’s good. I can’t hear it’s you.”

Harry’s chuckle sent shivers down her spine.

“Thank you for the compliment,” Harry said. “But you saw through my disguise yesterday. Blonde guy, ponytail?”

“That was you?” Tonks asked. 

“Yeah, I was rather proud of that one actually,” Harry said.

He grabbed his dragonskin jacket and was now matching Tonks.

 _Aww. They look really good together like that,_ Susan thought.

Susan borrowed Tonks’s vest once more and Ginny got a bomber jacket, which Harry had gotten from Sirius when he was fourteen. It fit her rather well in that sort of slightly baggy sense that was always stylish on an attractive young woman. 

“See you, Auntie,” Harry said. “Don’t wait up for us.”

“We’ll be back by eleven,” Tonks said quickly, giving Harry a quick glare. 

Susan hugged her aunt goodbye and Ginny was just standing there until Amelia went forward and hugged her too.

“Take care of yourself, and try not to do anything stupid,” Amelia said.

“We make no promises,” Tonks said with mock seriousness. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Amelia said. “Off you go.”

The four of them walked out of the flat, looking towards Harry.

“Well, I can take you along my old running path,” Harry shrugged. “It’s not like I have spent much time around here. Tonks should know better.”

“I usually just went to Magical places if I was to go out. The Leaky is the usual spot for Aurors.” Tonks said.

“Fine then, let’s just go along,” Harry said. “I think I remember the way to the cinema from last time we were there.”

“But that was ages ago!” Tonks said.

“So?” Harry asked. “It was a memorable evening. You took me out to see a film for the first time. Of course I remember.”

Tonks kept her face calm, trying not to blush, and soon she smiled again.

They walked along the road. Ginny and Susan had taken off their jackets and were walking along holding hands. They were getting looks but only a few stares, and those people soon turned away when they felt the glares from Harry and Tonks, who were walking behind them. 

Harry leaned in towards Tonks’ ear.

“So if people ask, we are dating. You are Susan’s cousin, and Ginny and I are your respective boyfriend and girlfriend,” Harry said. “Sounds good?” 

_This is going to end badly for me,_ Tonks thought.

“Why would anyone ask? What business is it of theirs—” Ginny was interrupted by a subtle elbow from Susan.

“Well if we’re going to be a couple, we should act like it,” she gathered her resolve. “Basic Auror undercover training.”

Harry held out his hand for her to grab. 

She hesitated for a moment before grabbing it. His skin felt rough against hers. More masculine than she remembered. More grown-up. She felt a tingling sensation all over as she felt him squeeze her hand.

She didn’t remember much for the rest of the afternoon. She was just lost in the happiness his presence brought her. 

“What did you do about the glasses?” she asked.

“Contacts.” Harry said. “I had Auntie get them for me, apparently some Aurors use them. Not a huge fan, but they’re worth it to be out with you. With everyone, I mean.” 

“They use them, yeah,” Tonks muttered. “I never thought about that. They suit you.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. “What about the beard?” 

Tonks reached up and scratched it. “Very much, it makes you look all grown up.”

“I can’t grow one myself,” Harry sighed. “Just a few patches, barely worth shaving.”

“So far,” Tonks said. “You will in the future, I’m sure of it.”

“If I live that long.” Harry muttered.

“You will,” Tonks said, leaning against him. 

Harry didn’t say anything to that. He got pulled into shops, more than he could count.

 _Do all witches look around this much? They hardly buy anything,_ Harry groaned inwardly. 

He caught the eyes of another man in the clothes shop. He was fighting hard to contain his laughter, when he saw the dispirited expression on his face. 

_I’m here with three of them and you complain._

“Ladies,” Harry said, gathering their attention. “I think it’s time for us to find a place to eat.” 

Tonks, Susan and Ginny looked his way. All three of them were pouting.

“Just a little longer, love?” Tonks asked. She knew instantly that she had made a mistake. 

Harry stalked out of the store and was walking down the street, hands jammed in coat pockets, shoulders up defensively. Tonks ran after him.

“Harry! Harry!” She realised calling his name out in public was a mistake, but they hadn’t even thought of that, and now she had no choice.

He turned around, his face a mix of emotions, but mostly shame. 

“Anything but that,” he said, his jaw tight and his teeth nearly clenched closed. “Just not that.”

“I’m sorry,” she begged. “Please don’t …”

Harry was just staring at her.

“Please don’t leave me. Us.” 

She had moved up to him and tentatively brushed her hand against his beard.

“You don’t understand,” he said. 

“Then explain it to me,” Tonks whispered.

“I’m betraying her,” he looked at her with confusion in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tonks gave him a sad smile. She pulled her hand back, thinking he needed space. “I understand, Harry. But I still care for you.”

Harry pulled her into a hug and felt her head on his chest. He knew they were gathering too many eyes on them. He didn’t care.

Susan and Ginny were watching them from the door of the shop. They knew exactly why he had reacted this violently. It was what _she_ called him. 

They just watched until Harry released Tonks. There was a single tear in his beard which reflected the sun.

“I’m alright now,” he said. “I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay,” Tonks wiped away the tear. “It really is. Let’s go, we’re attracting attention.”

Susan and Ginny had come out to them.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Sorry ladies, that was unbecoming of me.”

“That’s okay,” Susan said. “We understand.”

“I’m glad,” Harry played along. “I apologize for that.”

He held out his hand towards Tonks once more. She hesitated for a second afraid to take it. It had turned from something she desired to something she feared. Just as she decided she was being silly, Harry slowly retreated his hand. He turned around and began walking down the street. His right hand hanging loosely by his side. Tonks caught up with him, knowing that Susan and Ginny would follow. 

She looked at the hand hanging by his side. She looked at the tense state of his body. She slowly reached out for him with a finger. She brushed it against the back of his hand, expecting him to pull away. Instead, he turned his palm towards her and held it for her to take once more. 

_You shouldn’t_ , the voice of reason and caution whispered in her head, the voice she so often ignored.. 

She felt the rough skin of Harry’s palm as she ran her finger across it. She moved her hand forward and let his fingers intertwine with her own. 

_I’m sorry, indulge me for an evening… I swear I will never do this again,_ she swore silently.

Ginny and Susan watched them with a mix of emotions as they walked in front of them. They wanted everyone to be happy, but that wasn’t a real theme in Harry’s stories, so far.

Harry led them to a place called Quaglino’s. It had opened on Valentine’s Day only three years prior. It had an outstanding reputation. Harry led the girls into an alley close by and transfigured their clothes into something more suitable. Ginny was wearing a midnight black dress that showed off her shoulders but was modest in front otherwise. Susan was wearing a creamy white dress that exposed just enough of her tanned cleavage to draw attention while remaining entirely suitable for a young woman her age. He may have gone a little overboard with Tonks. She was wearing royal blue with long sleeves that suited her nicely, but with a scoop back that showed a lot of skin when she moved. Harry had transfigured his own jacket and jeans into a bespoke charcoal Saville Row suit, which he had modeled off of one he had seen an important businessman wearing during a long-ago trip around the city. It should last them for dinner before turning back into their previous clothes. 

Harry led the three women to the entrance. Susan was carrying Ginny’s arm over her own. Harry likewise with Tonks, who had kept her steely grey hair. As Harry held the door for them, he could not help but be pleased with how smart they all looked, and how mature he felt. They were all natural beauties, and he was proud to be with them. 

Harry got a table for four. As they moved towards their table, he put his hand out to the small of Tonks’s back, and for a moment felt bare skin. He coughed a little to hide his reaction, and she took the slightest misstep before smoothly recovering. They sat and were soon trying not to stare as they took in the large dining room. All were surprised by the large menu, most of it apparently some sort of French cuisine.

Harry, Susan, and Ginny had a little knowledge of French cuisine from the time Beauxbatons had visited Hogwarts as part of the Triwizard Tournament. 

Tonks, however, had never heard of any of the names on the menu. She looked imploringly at Harry, who smiled at her, before pointing to something he hoped she would enjoy. _Steak Frites._ It was really just the French words for steak and chips, but they had to be fancy and put it in French.

She sent him one of the sweetest smiles, she could and let him order. None of them got any wine even though Harry felt it unnecessary for Tonks to hold herself back, but she pointed out that she was at least somewhat responsible for the three of them. 

Harry had squeezed her hand when she said that. 

Dinner was a happy event. Harry ordered seconds for Tonks, who was still hungry, and by the time they had to get to the cinema all four of them were satisfied. 

“Where does she put it?” Ginny asked Susan in a low voice.

“It’s her metamorphmagus ability. She can regulate her metabolism. It’s _cheating_.” 

Ginny nodded at that. She didn’t have much of a problem with gaining weight because of Quidditch, but she knew it was a nightmare for some of the other girls at Hogwarts. 

They walked through the evening streets of London. Susan and Ginny were gossiping about the different Muggle fashions that they spotted on the streets.

Harry and Tonks were trailing behind them, smiling as they watched the two girls enjoying their time. They didn’t hold hands anymore, by some unconscious mutual decision. 

It was like the time before the restaurant was a passing dream, which they had both woken up from. They didn’t say anything to each other, both thinking about what they had done. 

They glanced at each other at odd intervals, never catching the other’s eyes. 

Tonks noticed the faraway look in Harry’s eyes. _I ended up doing something stupid._

Harry was thinking of his earlier incident at the shops, and before. _I should never have done that._

They arrived at the cinema.

“What are we watching?” Ginny asked, looking up at the still posters with fascination. Not one of them moved. It seemed so odd.

Harry and Susan turned to Tonks as well. The cinema was playing a collection of films about great Muggle music. They had just missed something called _Amadeus_ but were in time for _Immortal Beloved._ It sounded romantic, which might be nice for Susan and Ginny. Tonks pointed towards the poster with the silhouette of a man sitting at a piano _._

“What’s it about?” Harry asked. 

“Well, you will just have to wait and see,” Tonks smiled and opened the door for them, not entirely sure herself but reluctant to appear unsophisticated in front of the girls. 

Harry had a feeling it was going to be a romance. Susan and Ginny were looking around in fascination. 

Tonks led them all to the ticket booth and bought four tickets. They were told they pretty much had their choice of seats, which delighted Susan and Ginny. 

They went in and found some seats towards the back. The lights dimmed down. Harry spotted Susan and Ginny looking up at the screen in amazement. When the screen started showing pictures without sound, Harry thought they might have made a mistake. He heard a small gasp from Susan as the music started playing. Harry sat back into his seat, looking at the screen, his arm resting between Tonks and him. He watched as a man was lying dead on a bed.

“That doesn’t half look like Sirius,” Ginny whispered somewhat loudly. Susan hushed her.

Mixed feelings welled up in Harry as he looked at the man. The actor actually did resemble his godfather. He clenched his fist around the armrest. A soft hand fell on top of his own. He felt a soothing calm slowly wash over him from his arm. He relaxed and turned his palm towards Tonks’ hand. He felt nervous excitement well up in his stomach as their fingers were once more intertwined. It felt wrong, but it also felt right, comforting. He didn’t know what to think, so he stopped thinking at all and just enjoyed the moment. His thumb was idly trailing circles on top of her hand. 

It was an interesting story. The film was about finding the eternal love of a composer who Harry had heard about while he was in a Muggle school, Ludwig Van Beethoven. Harry watched as the great composer slowly lost his hearing. It pulled at his heartstrings when the man was down on his luck and was deaf. He wouldn’t be able to hear the music he composed. 

Harry felt a connection with sadness and madness, which surrounded the man. The times he would flare up on the screen. When he was smashing stuff, he recognized himself in the way they both pushed people away so they wouldn’t be hurt. He felt tears streaming down his face as the man was playing a beautiful piece on a piano, his head resting on top of it to capture some shadow of his own art. 

Harry wasn’t sure if the man on the screen could hear the sound, but Harry could. It was beautiful. He watched as the man grew older. Beethoven had taken away his young nephew from his mother to train him, to transform him into something the boy did not wish to be.

 _Like Dumbledore did to me, training me to fight Voldemort_ , Harry thought bitterly. 

He was shocked when the young man had tried to kill himself. Harry felt himself clench Tonks’s hand. He felt another hand on top and he looked up into her eyes and saw her deep care and concern.

_She knows me, she understands me._

Harry had noticed that at some point the movie had stopped being as interesting for Susan and Ginny as they found each other, and they might have spent the past twenty minutes snogging next to him. 

_At least they are quiet about it_ , Harry sighed in his mind. 

_You could kiss Tonks,_ a voice commented dispassionately in his mind as if it were a purely academic observation. Harry shook his head.

He felt a pair of concerned eyes fall upon him, he turned to look into Tonks’s hazel eyes, which seemed more blue-green than brown in the dimly lit cinema.

_Just lean in and do it._

She shared a sweet smile, before turning to the screen once more, thankfully sparing him the need to make that particular choice. Her head fell to his shoulder, and they both enjoyed a moment of silent closeness. The movie was ending. 

The lights came up, and Harry decided it might be better to release Tonks’s hand now that they were no longer in the dark. He felt her hand tighten in his, however, and decided he didn’t need to do it just yet after all. He would indulge himself for one evening. It would be rude to push her away. It was all part of the disguise. Nothing more than that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of our readers were still very angry at this time, that Harry was cheating on his One True Love and that Tonks was NoT thE OnE 4EVR!!!
> 
> I like to point out that Harry is an emotionally damaged teen with PTSD and limited experience with love, romance, or even affection. He confuses sex with intimacy and love with affection. OF COURSE he has conflicted feelings, competing emotions, and makes poor choices in word and action.
> 
> Didn't you at his age? No? Just me, then. Awkward.  
> -Killjoy


	10. Touched by Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the world's most awkward double-date leaves Harry and Tonks unable to slip back into their old roles...
> 
> • Shut up. It was just a date!  
> • this is the Harry I know  
> • Surprise, surprise!  
> • Ginny takes charge  
> • Molly saves the day  
> • Castoria and Cassiopeia  
> • “Come…join us…”  
> • Harry & Tonks: Same flat, different worlds  
> • Harry & Hermione: Vow, unbroken

**Chapter 10**. **Touched by Fire**

The walk home was subdued, to say the least. Ginny and Susan were wrapped in each other’s affection, holding hands and talking privately in soft voices to one another. Tonks and Harry followed a discreet distance behind them, also still hand in hand.

Several times, Harry went to speak, to say something to Tonks which would make the awkward awareness between them subside, but each time, he closed his mouth again, silent. When he had spoken, just a word about direction, or to mind a bicyclist recklessly heading their way, his deeper, older voice had suddenly felt alien and uncomfortable in his mouth.

 _Who are you any more?_ The voice in his head was deep too, out of place. _What do you think_ she _would think of you now?_

Harry watched Susan and Ginny, and bitterly recalled (somewhat inaccurately) when love had been that pure and simple.

Tonks was having a more spirited inner dialogue, with her desires and her fears taking full voice.

_It wasn’t so wrong, was it? He clearly enjoys your company._

_Of course he does. You’re his rock, the one person he counts on to never hurt him, never let him down. Never take advantage._

_Shut up. It was just a date!_

_You shut up. There was the kiss, too…_

Tonks watched Ginny and Susan and bitterly envied that their love was that pure and simple.

When they reached the flat, at last, Susan and Ginny hurried in together, still clutching one another tightly.

Tonks paused before they reached the door, turning to look at Harry. His short beard, no glasses, his missing scar, all of these were details, all disappeared. But his green eyes, his heart, his mind, his lips… she found herself leaning slightly towards him, her eyes closing.

Harry looked at Tonks and remembered her lips touching his, felt her hand in his. His mind raced, running his hands through her hair to activate the wall charms, her arms around him when he woke in the night, heart racing. His heart was racing now.

He pulled his hand away as if her fingers were burning him.

Tonks pulled back, trying to sound offhand as she said, “Well, thanks. This was fun.”

Harry’s face was burning, his hands had gone clammy and cold. _Tonks, her lips against his, her hand in his, his hand on her back as they walked through the restaurant, Tonks in her pink bikini…_

His eyes wide, he opened his mouth, but rather than speak, he bolted past Tonks, past Amelia who was sitting in her chair with a cup of tea, and up the stairs as if pursued by dementors. His door slammed, and he stood, back to the door, heart pounding. He went in front of his mirror. He looked at the older version of himself in it. He pointed his wand to his throat. 

“ _Vox mutante nox”_

“ah…” his voice was back to normal. It felt worse to look at his face with his usual voice.

He pointed his wand to his face, “ _F_ _inite dissimulato_ ”, he watched as the beard grew backward into his skin and the bone structure got a little more boyish, he was looking at himself. Well, no glasses. He removed the contacts and tossed them in the saline solution on his nightstand. _“Accio glasses.”_ He put them on.

He looked at himself in the mirror. He scrubbed at his forehead with his sleeve, so even his scar was back where it belonged.

_This is me, this is the Harry I know._

Tonks made somewhat transparent excuses to Amelia and made sure that she was happy in her chair before she herself went upstairs. She looked at Harry’s door—closed—and Susan’s—closed, and hopefully silenced. She walked into her room, surprised that the walls were steel-silver. In a moment, the walls glowed a soft bubblegum pink, and Tonks collapsed into her bed.

Harry woke up with a sigh, his dreams had been filled with colours of brown and pink swirling around in circles. He knew what it meant. He didn’t deny there was something _different_ between him and Tonks, but it didn’t take away from his love for Hermione. He loved her still, impossibly much. It was like the sole universal truth he carried in his heart and on his arm. 

_I will have to talk with Tonks about this,_ he thought to himself as he dragged his body to the bathroom. 

He knocked on the door not wanting to disturb anyone if he could. There was no answer. He pulled on the handle and he opened it up and thankfully found it empty. He closed the door behind him and locked it. 

He was finally okay with being in the bathroom alone. He was sure he would never do anything like he had tried before. He pulled off his t-shirt and boxers and turned on the water. It was slightly cold, but he didn’t mind. He needed a cold shower to feel awake. 

He groaned loudly as the cold water hit his back, _okay maybe a little too cold._

He drew in a chattering breath until the water adjusted to a more comfortable temperature. He washed himself off quickly but decided to stay under the stream of water contemplating, reflecting.

There was a loud knock on the door.

“Harry! When are you going to be done in there?” Susan’s annoyed voice penetrated the wood.

“Sorry,” Harry shouted back. “I’ll be done in a second.”

He turned off the shower and quickly dried himself with a spell. He had forgotten to bring fresh clothes, so he cast a quick cleaning charm on the clothes. They still felt dirty when he put them on, but it was probably just something he imagined.

He opened the door and found Susan tap-tapping in front of the door.

“Finally,” she exhaled and pushed him aside. Harry was just about to walk away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You aren’t supposed to have your wand in the bathroom,” Susan said quietly.

“I forgot.”

“I should tell Auntie,” Susan lifted her eyebrows.

“If you think that is for the best” Harry shrugged.

He walked towards his room, he didn’t want to continue this discussion with her. He heard the door close behind him. 

_I could really use a distraction today,_ Harry thought to himself, knowing it was rather unlikely for anything to take his mind away from the day before.

Harry dressed and found his way downstairs. He spotted Amelia coming out of her room. She was looking a little paler than usual. 

“You alright, Auntie?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah, just a bit of cramping, must have slept poorly,” Amelia groused.

Harry got around to making breakfast for the flat. Coffee for Tonks, a glass of orange juice for Amelia. Bacon and Eggs, the usual. It was Ginny’s last day, so she and Susan would probably spend their day fooling around. Tonks was supposed to go back to the Ministry later in the day. 

_Not soon enough to avoid_ that _conversation,_ Harry moaned inwardly.

“Oh, right,” Harry made as if to slap his forehead, “before Susan says anything, I didn’t think about it and I brought my wand to the bathroom. Nothing happened, I promise.”

“I see,” Amelia looked at him like she was seeing through him. “I won’t say I approve, but maybe it’s time to relax that specific rule. I will reserve my right to take it away from you if I deem it necessary.”

“Of course,” Harry sighed in relief. 

“So, would you like to explain to me what happened yesterday?” 

“That’s the reason I didn’t think about it…” Harry began, but they were interrupted by Susan and Ginny’s arrival in the kitchen.

“Auntie…” Susan began, but she was interrupted by Amelia.

“He already told me, I’m not saying I like it, but we have already discussed it.” 

Ginny looked at Susan, but only received a dismissive shake of the head of her head, which made Ginny pout. 

Harry chuckled a little when he saw their interaction.

“I did something stupid before Susan arrived, which made Amelia and Tonks decide that it would be better if my wand usage was supervised by them, just in certain places,” he explained carefully.

“What did you do?” Ginny asked.

“I’d rather not say,” Harry shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, okay,” Ginny knew when to back off. 

“Don’t bother asking Susan, when you are alone either, she doesn’t know,” Harry commented over his shoulder. 

Ginny frowned a little at that, but finally decided to let it go. 

As usual, Tonks was the last to stumble into the kitchen. Harry poured her a mug of coffee rather mechanically and put it down on the table within arms reach, but keeping his distance. 

Tonks’s eyes followed him as she grabbed the mug and breathed in the smell. 

_Not my usual mug_ , she observed.

The breakfast was consumed in comparative silence. Amelia would groan once in a while, which she just explained was the pregnancy and she was feeling a few cramps. Susan and Ginny went off, Harry helped Amelia into her chair and walked back to the kitchen to clean up. Tonks was nursing her fourth mug of coffee, which was a lot even for her. 

Harry could feel her eyes bore into him as he cleaned up the plates and containers by hand instead of magic, anything to keep him occupied for longer and not having to confront the hippogriff in the room. 

“Harry,” Tonks’s trembling voice hit his ear. 

“Yeah,” he turned around and found her holding back tears.

“Could we talk?” she asked cautiously. 

Harry sat down and summoned a glass from a cupboard. He filled it with water. They looked at each other, neither of them wanting to say the first word. Harry observed the way her hair was hanging more limply than usual. The way her fingers were grasping her mug tightly. The way her lips were quivering, and the way her face would scrunch up trying to contain her tears.

“Yesterday…” she finally said.

“I felt it too,” Harry admitted. 

“You did?” Tonks’ face lit up. 

“Yes. But—I’m sorry—I can’t,” Harry was struggling to find the right words.

“Oh,” Tonks said stiffly.

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t care for you, I _do_ care for you, as something more than, more than before,” Harry sighed. “It’s just—”

“—Her,” Tonks said more bitterly than she wished. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I promised. I promised to always love her, and I still do. I haven’t seen her since, but I have to have hope. For my own sake as well.”

“I understand,” Tonks wiped away tears that were threatening to ruin a perfectly good fourth cup of coffee. “I can wait for you to know.”

“Why?” Harry asked, still trying to keep his voice down.

“Because I have already tried to forget you,” Tonks said with agitation. “I couldn’t, you idiot,” 

Harry had just opened his mouth when a long, high moan sounded through the flat. He looked in surprise at Tonks, wide-eyed, and sprang to his feet and towards the living room.

“Auntie!” 

“Hoo … hoo…” Amelia panted. “Aaaargh!!” 

Harry rushed towards her, unsure of how to ease her distress. 

“What’s going on?” he asked frantically. “Are you hurt?”

“Her water broke,” Tonks said, noticing the spreading dark spot on Amelia's robes. Tonks sounded frightened. “But, that shouldn’t happen yet! She’s not due for six more weeks. We haven’t even set up security yet- that was supposed to be this week!” 

“What do we do?” Harry looked frightened, uncertain for the first time in a long time. 

“What’s going on?!” Susan and Ginny came running down the stairs.

“Auntie’s water broke,” Harry told her.

“Keep calm, Potter,” Amelia groaned in a hoarse voice. “I think this is happening.”

Harry felt a wave of adrenaline hit, and he started looking about the room, considering exits, trying to gauge the right action. He felt a hand on his arm and spun around to find Ginny, pale but calm, next to him.

“Harry, have you ever dealt with a birth before?” She asked firmly.

“No, I mean, I read some things…” His eyes were wide, and Ginny spoke to him quietly, turning him slightly away from Amelia.

“Slow down, Potter. Everything will be okay, but we can’t have you agitated, it could distress Amelia. I know who we can call.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Like training or a duel, he had to keep his balance. “What’s our plan?”

“Tonks, go to the Burrow right now, bring Mum here as soon as possible,” Ginny ordered. The smallest, youngest of them seemed to have taken command. Maybe there were benefits of growing up with six older brothers. “Take Susan. Harry and I will stay with Amelia.”

“Right,” Tonks said, looking at Susan, who was looking from her aunt to Ginny and back 

“Susan?” Ginny said, catching her eye. “Go. I promise nothing will happen until you get back.”

Tonks took Susan’s hand, and with a spin and pop apparated away.

“Thank you, Ginny,” Amelia said, gritting her teeth and wincing. “Good work.”

“Thanks,” Ginny leaned toward Amelia. “I'm making this up as we go. What can we do until mum gets here?”

Amelia panted a bit, grimacing then said, “I’d like to get my feet up?”

“Harry, you hear that? Help her raise up her feet.” 

Harry focused. His wand made a few quick gestures, and the recliner was a full bed, with head and feet raised, and handrails for Amelia to hold on to.

“Nice, now go get some clean towels, a basin of cool water, and one of warm water. Set up a table over there for my mother when she gets here.”

“What is that for?” Amelia asked, seeming to relax somewhat, looking around at Harry’s preparations.

“That’s for keeping Harry busy until Mum gets here,” Ginny admitted quietly, looking over her shoulder at Harry’s intense activity.

The fireplace lit up and Mrs. Weasley arrived, a small collection of potions and a large handbag with her. Susan and Tonks followed her, looking concerned. 

“Good to see you, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry sighed in relief. 

“Likewise Harry,” Mrs. Weasley nodded towards him before focusing on Ginny. “Smart girl. Step aside a bit? Thanks. Well, Amelia, how have you been? Anything new?” She smiled at her own joke, but did not waste any time quickly examining Amelia by eye as she laid out her things and drew her wand.“I’m sure we can still get you to Mungo’s, dear.” 

“Too exposed,” Amelia groaned, “We’re still targets.” 

“Well, it won’t be the first time we did this at home. Common during the war,” Mrs. Weasley said as she cleaned and sterilised her hands with magic. “Harry dear, you will probably want to leave the room. We are going to get Amelia into a gown, and this might be a little more than you care to see.”

“Right,” Harry yelped. “Call if you need anything? Promise?”

“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Weasley was feeling Amelia’s belly bump, which had dropped noticeably lower.

Harry went upstairs and heard footsteps behind him.

“Not you two young ladies- you are staying here to help me. Tonks too.” Mrs. Weasley commanded.

Harry heard three separate yelps behind him and rushed up the stairs. He had the door to the study open so he could listen in on the proceedings, but soon closed it until he was just sure that he would hear if they called for him. He felt scared and a little nauseous. He hadn’t known how much yelling was involved in the process.

Harry had never heard his aunt curse so much either. Surprisingly a lot of it was directed towards Sirius, who apparently was a right bastard for putting a baby in her in the first place.

“You, you sly, smooth-talking son of a bitch!” Amelia shouts echoed throughout the flat.”You, ugh, did this to meeeeeee…”

Harry felt a wild urge to return downstairs. Several times, it seemed like days, he actually put his hand to the door, but each time he heard Molly Weasley’s soothing voice, giving directions, asking questions, or just humming and murmuring reassuring sounds. His nerves were frayed and he was starting to exhaust himself with agitation. He felt well past his breaking point when a small cry tore through the air. Harry rushed to the banister, only to hear Amelia still panting and pushing. 

“How did you miss that it was twins, Amelia?” Mrs. Weasley said, incredulously. 

“How should I know, Molly? You recall I never… never... did this before?” Amelia gasped. 

Susan, following careful instructions, was holding a baby, wrapped in a clean blanket, just to one side. Ginny was cleaning up something which Harry decided not to investigate further. 

Harry was horrified by all of the blood. The formerly white sheets were vividly coloured with blood now, and Amelia was looking pale and sweat-soaked. Tonks was dabbing her forehead with a cloth, and Ginny had taken over assisting her mother, handing her whatever she asked for. Both Ginny and her mother appeared calm, in contrast to everyone else involved. Susan was apparently becoming bewitched by the small bundle she was cradling against her body and had started murmuring softly to it.

“There, we have the head,” Mrs. Weasley said from her position between Amelia’s legs. “Come on give, one more good push.”

“You said that,” Amelia gasped, “ten pushes ago. Ooh, oh, oh, ugh!”

Amelia moaned, a low raspy sound, tapering off, and a new cry filled the room. Amelia lost all the strength in her body and fell back into the pillows, panting for breath.

“Twins alright, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said as she cut the cord and wrapped the second baby in a cloth. “Two beautiful girls.” 

Amelia smiled and lifted her head weakly to see the baby in Mrs. Weasley’s arms. Susan was moving closer to her aunt. 

“Not quite finished,” Mrs. Weasley called out to the girls softly. “The placenta, the afterbirth. Normally it would be a while, but this is one area where magic can help quite a bit.”

She made some motions with her wand, muttering charms, and Amelia sat up partway, then relaxed back into the bed. Molly took a moment to clean the sheet and surrounding area with a few safe charms and moved aside.

“Okay, girls. Harry, you can come down now.”

Harry felt all wobbly on his legs as he moved forwards towards the bed. 

Mrs. Weasley had cleaned well, and Amelia looked exhausted but unhurt. Harry stood next to the bed and watched the small faces in their bundles. They had stopped crying, but it was already obvious that they were very different girls.

“Do you want to hold her?” Amelia asked in a weak voice. 

Harry felt afraid as if he was too tainted to hold something so small, so pure. 

“Go on,” Amelia held one twin up towards him. 

Harry nervously put his hand under the little girl's head and pulled her into his embrace. _She’s so small_ , he thought. _Are all babies this small?_

“What’s your name, then?” Harry asked in a hoarse voice. He looked down at her face. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was making little motions as if she was trying to speak or to kiss him. Must be hungry already, he thought. 

“Sirius and I had planned to follow the Blacks' fondness for naming their children after constellations,” Amelia smiled. “I think that young lady there is Cassiopeia Meriel Black, and her sister is Castoria Roseclere Black. Castoria the older, Cassiopeia the younger.”

Tonks let out a little private groan. The girls hadn’t escaped the Black tradition of being named after constellations, but it could have been worse.

At least their names are better than Nymphadora, she reasoned with herself. Tori and Cassie, yeah those are good nicknames. 

Amelia sighed and leaned back into her pillows.

“Dear, you are exhausted, don’t worry. We can look after the small ones while you sleep,” Mrs. Weasley said. “They won’t need to eat for a bit yet.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Amelia said weakly as she closed her eyes. “You’re a lifesaver, perhaps literally.”

She opened her eyes and reached a hand out for Molly’s arm. “And Ginny. You should be so proud. No panic, never let on if she was scared. Kept everyone calm, bless her.” 

Amelia leaned back, closing her eyes. Almost at once she was sleeping, head back, tucked under a fresh blanket

“Come now, dears,” Mrs. Weasley guided Susan, Ginny, Harry, and Tonks towards the kitchen. 

Tonks and Ginny were completely infatuated with the two small girls. Ginny was hovering around Susan, and Tonks was staying close to Harry. 

“Hello Cassie, I’m your cousin Tonks,” she said in a small voice. 

Harry, puzzled, turned to look at her.

“Are you sure that isn’t supposed to be Auntie Tonks instead?” Harry teased.

“I’m not that old!” Tonks protested. “We’re second cousins, once removed, I think. Anyhow, look at that face, that’s a cousin’s face.” She made little soft noises, almost nose to nose with Cassie.

“By the time she starts Hogwarts I’ll be in my late twenties,” Harry mused to himself. “I might have children of my own.”

 _Harry’s children,_ Tonks mused. _Wiry, energetic children running around with unruly hair in all sorts of colours. Stupid! You are being stupid right now._

Cassiopeia flashed them a grin. Tonks felt like her legs were melting as the dark-eyed, black-haired baby looked at her. 

“Who is a little cutie?” Tonks said in a baby voice. “You are, yes, you are!”

“You can hold her if you want,” Harry offered.

“Oh, no no no,” Tonks panicked. 

“Go on dear, just hold her like Harry is,” Mrs. Weasley said, sitting down at the table. She was exhausted as well.

Tonks carefully scooped her hand under Cassiopeia’s neck and slowly lifted her out of Harry’s arms. 

_She is heavier than I thought_ , Tonks noticed. _And she smells...nice? Whoah, do all babies smell so nice? What is that about?_

Harry watched as Tonks sat down on a chair next to the table, completely enamoured by the tiny girl. He moved towards the kitchen and began trying to put together some sort of food. Ginny was holding Castoria and sat down next to Tonks. Susan and Mrs.Weasley were watching the two witches with indulgent looks in their eyes. 

Harry quickly got around to preparing some food. He knew they had all worked hard and their nerves would probably be even more frayed than his own. So he decided the least he could do to help was make something to eat. He started by making each of them a cup of tea to calm down. The five cups of steaming tea, four of them placed on the table, were gratefully accepted by their receivers. Tonks’s finger had gotten caught by Cassiopeia and she was giggling and looking in awe at the little girl. 

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said as she sipped her own cup. “How are you doing?” 

“Fine,” Harry said. 

“It’s a terrible thing that happened,” Mrs. Weasley pressed on. 

“Yes it was, but as you can see Sirius is still here, living in the body of his daughters,” Harry smiled. 

“Indeed,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I can imagine him running around like a headless chicken during the birth if he was here.”

“I wish I could show them to him,” Harry muttered. 

“And what about…” 

“—Hermione?” Harry cut her off. “Well, I assume you know more than I do. I’ve been prohibited from seeing her, after all. Mrs. Weasley, let us not speak more about that topic. This is a day to celebrate.” 

“You need to open up about it.”

“I do, to Tonks, Amelia, and Susan,” Harry sent her a telling look. “It is more than enough for me.”

Tonks and Susan had looked up at him with care in their eyes. He had never said it out loud before, but they felt the closeness in his words.

Mrs. Weasley wasn’t ready to back off yet, but her daughter stepped up.

“Mum, that’s enough,” Ginny said. “Harry has a family to talk to. It even just got expanded. I think the focus should be on that.”

“Very well, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said. After Amelia's comments, Molly was considering Ginny somewhat more thoughtfully than she might have previosuly.

Harry was sipping on his cup of tea. Castoria was sleeping, which led Susan to have more focus on Cassiopeia, who was happily reaching out her hands and holding Tonks and Susan’s fingers. 

_She looks good with a baby in her arms,_ Harry caught himself thinking. _Hermione would too, but it definitely suits Tonks._

His train of thought was interrupted by a cry from Castoria, which led to Cassiopeia making it a duet. 

“What’s going on?” Susan panicked.

“I think they are just hungry, dear.” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Bring them to me,” Amelia’s sleepy voice came from the living room.

Tonks and Ginny carried the two girls to their mother. 

“Well, it is nice to hear your voices,” Amelia smiled down at her girls. Harry didn’t turn around quickly enough before Amelia had opened up her gown and her chest was in full view. 

Harry felt himself blushing as he turned around. 

“Well, I’m sorry Harry, but your two goddaughters take priority,” Amelia teased.

“It’s okay,” Harry grunted and ruffled his hair, still looking away. 

“Well, just assume that at least a third of the time when either of the girls cry it is because they are hungry,” Amelia teased. 

“I understand,” Harry moved towards the stairs. “I think that has been enough excitement for me. I think I’ll go lie down for a bit.” 

“Sure thing,” Amelia had noticed the tension in his shoulders and didn’t fight to keep him there. She would ask about it later. 

Tonks looked after his retreating body. She hesitated.

“Go after him if you need to,” Amelia said. 

Tonks sent her a grateful look and caught up to him as he opened the door to his bedroom. 

“You okay?” 

“Frankly no,” Harry sighed, pulling away.

“Do you want to be alone?” Tonks looked concerned and sad.

“Yeah,” Harry said and walked into the room and closed the door. 

Tonks opened the door. 

“I thought I said I wanted to be alone,” Harry sounded annoyed.

“I know, but I don’t think you should have your wand right now if you insist on bottling things up,” Tonks said with a cold look. 

Harry reached for his wand and looked at it for a second before handing it to her, shutting the door in her face in the process. 

Tonks stared at the closed door in a daze. She was holding Harry’s wand in her hand. She had thought, or rather hoped, that he would open up to her instead of shutting her out. 

She was frustrated. She stomped her feet for a second debating whether she should just break the door down. How could he not see how worried she was for him, and just wanted everything to be okay?

 _You haven’t even finished our conversation_ , she angrily shouted in her mind. 

She stormed downstairs.

“Anything wrong, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked. 

Tonks ignored her, put down Harry’s wand next to Amelia, and rushed to the fireplace. She grabbed a bit of floo powder, threw it in, took a step, and growled, “Ministry of Magic”. 

“What is going on?” Mrs. Weasley looked in turn to Amelia, Susan, and Ginny.

“Molly, this is not something you need to step into,” Amelia sent her a measured look. “I am more than grateful for your help, but I need you to promise: stay out of Harry and Tonks’s business. They’re going through some things.”

Mrs. Weasley looked uncertain but finally nodded. 

_He found himself in a dark space. There was only a single source of light in the distance. He walked towards the light, finding himself standing under a lamppost. It was familiar. Where do I remember it from?_

_He walked around it. It felt ancient but recent, something warm and cold all at once. He looked into the darkness. He felt like there were people moving around in the dark. He reached for his wand, and waved it to create more light but the wand turned into a rubber haddock._

_“Anyone there?” he called out._

_There was no reply. He felt the darkness twirl, an all-consuming fog. A shadowy figure appeared from the emptiness and walked towards the light._

_“Hermione?”_

_Harry watched as the figure blurred, he wasn’t sure if it was even the same person anymore. The darkness spun and flowed around him, like a pool of oil being drained from below._

_“Tonks?”_

_Silhouette after silhouette appeared around him._

_“Sirius?”_

_“Mum?”_

_“Dad?”_

_“Cedric? Is that you?”_

_He felt the darkness, a physical thing, trying to pull him in._

_“Come…” the ghostly silhouettes whispered out to him. “Join us…”_

_“I can’t!” he cried out._

_Silhouette after silhouette receded into the dark._

_“Don’t go!” He was on the floor crying now._

_There were only two of them left now. They moved closer, but he still could not make out any features, could only guess as to identity._

_“Hermione? Tonks?”_

_He felt a chill as they passed completely through his body._

_He was alone._

Harry woke up in a cold sweat. Tears had marked his pillow. He clutched at his chest, his breath catching.

He tried to breathe deeply, gathering his mind. Images of Hermione were tumbling through his mind. He smiled as they played in his head. The way she smiled when she was excited about something. The way she would laugh. He felt like he was opening up a box of sadness with a tiny wisp of hope.

He fiddled with the teardrop gemstone on his wrist. She was the one for him, he was sure of it. Maybe he had still had a chance to make her fall for him once more. Hermione was worth it, she was worth any amount of pain it took to have her in his life. He owed her so much, but that wasn’t the reason for his love. It wasn’t about what either of them could give the other. It was just because he loved her.

Ginny had gotten permission from her mother to stay at Carnaby Street to help look after the babies, so long as she promised that she would do her homework and come home when August came around. She had happily accepted those terms and was flitting around the flat helping wherever she was needed. 

Susan had also enjoyed helping take care of Castoria and Cassiopeia. The two girls were bringing a new breath of life to the flat. Especially during the day, when Amelia would do her best to catch up on sleep. She was sharing the bed with the two girls, so they were easy to reach if they woke up crying. Well, usually it was one of them waking up crying and then the other joined, but Amelia was looking tired nonetheless. 

Molly Weasley had begun almost daily visits, doting on the two baby girls. She and Amelia had begun to grow closer, with the shared experiences of motherhood giving way to other overlapping interests. Amelia had slightly known Molly’s brothers, the Prewetts, and was able to share a few anecdotes. Molly admitted that she was sensitive about not having grandchildren yet and that the two girls were a good placeholder for “when Bill and Charlie get their wands out of their arses and find some good witches.”

Harry did his part and was not squeamish about changing their diapers. He was, however, seriously reconsidering ever getting a child on his own. These two girls more than made up for his need for a family, at least at the moment. As to his current family, Harry had begun avoiding being alone with Tonks. He knew it hurt her, but he didn’t want to lead her on when he had decided to focus on Hermione. When he was honest with himself, he acknowledged that he didn’t need the additional temptation either. Now that he had admitted to himself that his feelings for Tonks were somewhat complicated, it seemed she was everywhere, all the time. He kept to himself in the study. He felt relieved when she didn’t bring up anything more about their conversation from the morning the girls had been born. She threw herself into work and spent more time away from the flat than she actually did awake at home. 

It was like something had broken between them, but neither of them could do anything to mend it. It just stayed the same, sometimes they felt like family to each other, sometimes they felt like strangers. Harry had stopped training in the flat and had instead, with Amelia’s permission, begun running again. He would usually get up before Tonks was awake, assume his disguise, and begin running. He would not return until after she had gone to the Ministry. He did leave her coffee, hot on the table, as a tie that still held them together, no matter how tenuously.

Harry ticked off the days on the calendar. Though his birthday was hurtling towards him, he didn’t feel like celebrating it this year. There would be no present from Hermione, which would remind him of the state of things. Instead, he had begun carefully probing, asking Ron in each owl how Hermione was doing, what she had been reading, trying to feel out her state of mind from the distance of Carnaby Street. Ron continued to report as best as he was able on her progress. 

Harry was happy to hear that Hermione was steadily improving and that her health and emotional shock seemed to be slowly but continuously improving. He was ecstatic when Ron told him that it was increasingly possible that Hermione would go back to Hogwarts after the summer holidays. Harry hadn’t dared ask about what she had been told about him. He had a feeling if it was up to Mr. Granger, she would never hear a word. By unspoken agreement, Ron kept details that might get Harry too concerned out of his reports, while assuring Harry that he was steadily advocating with the Grangers for full, eventual disclosure to Hermione of her life before the Department of Mysteries. Finally, Ron assured him that he and the Grangers had spoken to the Chief Healer in the case, and were working out what was best for Hermione. 

Harry had perfected the calculator. It no longer required solar energy but picked up magic in the air instead. That had stabilised it, so Harry was certain it would work at Hogwarts and not go haywire as _Hogwarts, A History_ claimed that it would. He was sure Hermione would love it if he were able to give it to her. He had already made three of them, one for testing and then one for each of them if it worked.

He was feeling hopeful again, but with hope came longing. It felt right, to be thinking again of Hermione with optimism. He was ashamed of his moments of weakness, but now he had dedicated himself to his love once again, and he wasn’t going to be distracted again by anyone or anything. 

He would spend August reading everything he could find on memory charms and recovery methods for obliviation. He had convinced Susan to go to Diagon Alley and practically buy the whole section of related books from Flourish and Blotts, as Amelia had insisted that wizard hotspots like Diagon Alley were too dangerous for Harry even in disguise. The books now filled a fourth bookcase in the study. He was consumed, reading almost feverishly as if touched by fire, filling long scrolls of parchment with notes, questions, and formulae.

Yes, he would help Hermione remember him if anyone could. And when she remembered, she would know him and love him, once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waske told me early on that he was planning twins for Amelia, so I had tweaked and nudged chapters far in advance. She was unusually huge, she never made it to St. Mungo's for care due to the threat of Dark Wizards, etc. 
> 
> I also argued strongly that this was a chance for Molly Weasley to redeem herself. Waske and I had very different views of Molly, but we agreed that she was coming off VERY negatively in this series, perhaps more than intended or needed. Showing her legitimate care for Harry and his friends, for her peers in the Wizarding World, was important to me. Once she finally lets "Harry + Ginny" go, she has real potential. Plus I love writing Molly, as you may see in the next volume.


	11. Interlude: Missing Piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude, in which Ron makes a difficult visit to Hermione in hospital, and in which Hermione puts friendship above curiosity, to the surprise of her father.
> 
> • Ron performs a difficult service  
> • Hermione is hurt, but not how he expected  
> • They both deal with some changes time has wrought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note from ReverendKilljoy:
> 
> I hadn’t planned on spelling this scene out, but clearly, some people need more specific closure on issues raised in this Interlude. 
> 
> While I generally follow Joss Whedon’s advice to “give the audience what they need, not what they ask for,” in this case I decided that trying to catch up later via flashback, or letting the audience draw their own conclusions, might make things harder on some readers for no good reason. 
> 
> So, Missing Piece…

**Chapter 11.** **Interlude: Missing Piece**

Ron Weasley arrived via floo to the main lobby of St. Mungo’s as usual, but his face was set, a serious look that seemed out of place on his normally open, boyish face. Instead of his usual collection of books and small amenities, he carried a bundle of letters, tied with a white ribbon.

He took the stairs one at a time—half his recent pace—as if to delay what was coming.

He arrived at the ward and took a second to collect his thoughts. He had very carefully planned out what he wanted to say, and what Hermione might say in return. He had developed his plan with her parents, and with Eustace Lewis, the Healer in charge of Hermione’s care. There was no putting things off any longer, so he pasted a smile on his face and entered the ward.

Unusually, Hermione was sitting up in her bed, rather than in her more typical chair by the window. Her father John was standing, looking out the window with his back to the room, his body clearly tense. Hermione’s mother, Jean, sat in a chair next to her, holding her hand. Hermione, he noticed, was wearing another jumper, but this one was much closer to her proper size, and her hair had been brushed out and not tied back, framing her face in a somewhat more mature way. Hermione looked very nervous and uncertain. Before he could greet her, she spoke.

“Hello, Ronald.” Her voice was calm. “I’m glad you’ve come. Something is clearly going on, but neither of them would say anything until you arrived.”

“Hello, Ron,” Jean said warmly, keeping her seat and holding on to her daughter’s hand.

“Weasley,” her father said, his voice tight, not looking at them.

“John,” Jean said calmly, “you promised.”

Hermione’s father turned, nodded to Ron, and then faced his wife and daughter.

“I know I did, but I… I just can’t be here for this. I’m going to take a walk for a bit, but I won’t leave you, Hermione. I’ll be back before Ronald leaves, I promise.”

“I understand, sir,” Ron said. “Take the time you need.”

“Okay, Daddy.” Hermione watched her father striding towards the door as if barely containing the urge to flee the room. “Now, isn’t it time that someone explained what is going on? Is it something the doctors, the healers, said? Was it Healer Lewis?”

Ron took the other chair on the far side of the bed from Jean and shook his head to Hermione.

“First, I’m sorry if we’ve worried you. There is no bad news about your healing. In fact, most of your memory patterns are starting to recover, they told us, which should make relearning things simpler and less stressful for you.”

“You say that as if it isn’t good news.” She looked shrewdly at her mother. “What is it that no one is telling me, Mother?”

“I can’t put anything over on my baby still, can I?” Jean asked. “This is very… difficult, for your parents to talk about, so Ron has agreed to help explain. It wasn’t his idea, but he was quick to volunteer when we decided it was best, so if you are upset after, please remember that you mustn’t blame Ronald.”

Hermione was looking at Ron with clear confusion. Ron jumped to the relevant step of the plan.

“There are things we haven’t told you, Hermione,” he began, but before she could interrupt, he held up a hand cautioning her. “Not because we wanted to—not all of us—but because the healers said you simply weren’t ready. As soon as they told your parents that you were able to process the news, they began to figure out how to... how to tell you.”

“Hermione,” Jean said slowly, “your father and I have asked Ronald to be careful to leave out something rather important, but also very difficult, about what has happened to you.”

“It has to do with the attack, at the Ministry, by the wizard no one will name, doesn’t it?” Hermione asked softly.

Ron and Jean looked at each other quickly, but then Ron began to laugh, softly, at his own complete failure. “I thought I was being so careful,” he said, “but I should have known I couldn’t outwit our Hermione.”

She reached out, and for the first time since her arrival at hospital, she took his hand in hers. “It wasn’t you, Ronald. You’ve been brilliant. It’s just bits and pieces, here and there, from books, or people talking in the wards, things the healers said when they thought I didn’t understand… I could tell recently that there was a, a shadow, a hole in the stories you’ve been telling me. A missing piece. I knew you were talking around something, so completely I didn’t know what questions to ask. I take it you’ve decided to tell me?”

Her mother began, “There was a boy, another wizard in your year—”

“Potter.” Hermione’s face was set, her eyes bright. “Harry Potter.”

“You, you remember?” Ron’s voice was excited, filled with hope, despite what Hermione’s father might think. 

“Not really,” Hermione said, her shoulders slumping, her hand suddenly nervous and unsettled in Ron’s. “I mean, I heard the name, and I knew that was the name that went with the missing piece, but I don’t remember him.”

Ron’s face fell, but Jean’s seemed a battle between disappointment and relief.

“So, he’s important, then?” Hermione asked. “To what happened to me?”

“He is important to you,” Ron said. “He was our friend, really your best friend. He was also your boyfriend.”

Before he could say more, Hermione laughed, a clear, pure sound that raised looks from the other three witches in her ward, all of whom had been dosing quietly. Hermione covered her mouth and laughed again more softly.

“I’m sorry, Ronald, Mother,” she said, “but that was, well it was the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard. Stuff and nonsense, surely!”

Jean spoke, at last, her voice heavy. “It’s true. Harry is… was… Harry and you were inseparable, soulmates, you told us. When we saw you together, even your father, the way that you looked at each other…”

Hermione frowned and looked to Ron in surprise. “I had a boyfriend? A _soulmate_? Like, we said… love things… and, and held hands and all that?”

Ron chuckled a bit and nodded. Hermione’s face grew pale, and she quickly looked at her mother, then back to Ron.

“We didn’t…” she whispered in embarrassed horror. “I didn’t ever, you know, _snog him_ , did I?”

Jean stood. “I think, dear, I’m going to go and find your father. You and Ron have a chat, and I’ll be back with some tea, alright?”

“Yes, Mother,” Hermione said automatically, her mind reeling at the humiliation of discussing snogging a boy right in front of her mother. As Jean left the ward, Hermione looked about, to make sure the three other witches had resumed their naps, before she turned back to Ron, leaning closer to speak more privately with him.

Ron took a moment to review his careful strategy, rather tattered now that the wit of Hermione Granger had grabbed it like Fang after a soup bone. He decided that the basic idea was still sound, and slowly handed Hermione the bundle of letters tied in the white ribbon.

“I think that you should probably start with these. I’ve put them in order, and stopped with the more, erm, intimate ones. There are more when you’re ready.”

“Intimate?” Hermione first flushed, then quickly grew very pale. “You… you read my letters. From Harry? And they are, you know, love letters?”

Ron nodded, his own face bright red.

“I read through them, a bit. You needed to see them, but your parents also wanted you to be protected… No, not protected, to be prepared, for what you might find. They decided it would be better to have someone who knew you both just quickly check… I didn’t really _read_ them.”

“Ronald,” she said, clearly horrified, “you must have done, to figure out what to show me, and when.”

He hung his head, distraught. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m just so sorry. To have what happened to you, and then to have someone you’ve come to trust, a friend, violate your privacy…”

She made a shushing noise and sat for a moment in deep and rapid thought.

“I hope that I would have done the same for you,” she said clearly.

He looked up and ran a sleeve over his eyes, where tears were welling and threatening to make him go all blotchy as he always did when he cried. He shook his head, confused.

“You’re not furious with me? You’re not hurt?”

“Of course I’m hurt,” she said shortly, “but not by _you_. By the man, the _creature_ , who did this to me. It must have been awful for you, going through someone else’s life, their private thoughts. I’m not stupid, Ronald.” He laughed despite his concern at that. 

“I’m not stupid,” she repeated firmly. “I’d worked out ages ago that for whatever reason, you and I were not great friends, _before_. But since they brought me here, you’ve been an excellent friend. If anyone had to do this, I’m glad that it was you. Especially you and not my father!”

He smiled. “Yeah, he said he’d cut off his own arm to not have to read anything between you and Harry. Not a huge fan of Harry, your father. Not after what happened, anyway.”

“You know,” said Hermione, setting the letters down beside her on the bed, “I think that I shan’t read these just now. They might be upsetting, or they might make everything suddenly come clear and make sense, but either way, I know they’ll change things.”

She looked back to Ron, with a shy smile, and said, “I’ve never really had many friends, that I can remember, and now I have one who is particularly excellent. I’m not ready for that to change this afternoon. Is that alright?”

Ron was torn, between enjoying her friendship and his knowledge of the love that poured from every page of Harry’s letters to her, the physical and emotional intimacy documented in increasing detail between them there. He decided that he had an obligation as her friend to tell her what he thought.

“You should at least start reading them soon. You’ll have questions, and they say you may be ready to go back to school this year, in some way at least, if your parents will let you. I want you to know enough to understand what that decision would mean for you.”

She started to tear up, and sniffled loudly, again showing him the combination of wit and innocence which made him so scared for her.

“Oh, dear Ronald,” she said. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know about before, but right now, I’m very glad that you’re my friend.”

She grew nervous and turned her head away, very busy suddenly with the business of finding a tissue and discreetly blowing her nose.

Ron was saved from further awkward displays of friendship at that moment when her parents came in, talking in low voices with each other, and Ron stood.

“I’m glad too,” he said quietly to Hermione, before going to her parents and explaining that Hermione probably needed some rest and that she would start reading the letters later.

“Hermione, not reading,” John said. “Seen it all now, I suppose. Thank you, Ron. You’re a good lad.”

“Sir,” Ron said, “Ma’am. I’ll try to check back on her tomorrow afternoon if that’s alright with you?” 

“Thank you, Ronald,” Jean said, giving him a one-armed hug as he tried to excuse himself. “She’d like that, I’m sure.”

 _Before or after,_ Ron thought as he headed home to the Burrow, _she didn’t deserve any of this._


	12. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time wounds all heels, as they say.
> 
> • Harry is wished a happy birthday and receives some unexpected presents  
> • "PAWN OF PROPHECY OR BOY HERO?"  
> • "FUDGE OUT IN MINISTRY KERFUFFLE"  
> • Harry talks with Sirius, hoping for insight  
> • Tonks is nobody's rebound girl  
> • Testament and Legacy  
> • Harry goes on an errand with Dumbledore

**Chapter 12.** **Legacy**

Harry opened his eyes. It was his birthday. He had a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, almost metallic. He ran a finger on the inside of his mouth. There were traces of blood in his spit. He felt a dull pain in his cheek. 

_Must have bitten my cheek during the night,_ he thought. _Great start to this day_.

He walked out of his bedroom. He had already donned his training gear and was just about to put on his disguise in the kitchen when he heard Amelia’s voice behind him.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Out for my run,” Harry responded.

“It’s your birthday,” she said.

“So?” 

“Don’t you want to celebrate it?” Amelia questioned.

“I don’t see the point,” Harry said. “It’s just another day. Are the twins asleep?” 

“Yes,” Amelia sighed with a smile. “They just fell asleep before you came down. The little rascals have kept me awake for at least a couple of hours.”

“Well, Cassiopeia is a loud one isn’t she?” Harry smiled. 

“That she is, indeed,” Amelia smiled. “I wish Sirius could have been here on your birthday.” 

“Me, too,” Harry said. 

“I still want to celebrate with you,” Amelia said. 

“I’m not going to celebrate it with Sirius or Hermione,” Harry smiled sadly. “It just feels wrong without them.”

“I understand,” Amelia said. “We can keep it to a small breakfast when you get back then.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. 

He transfigured his face in front of Amelia, he had chosen the face of a middle-aged man. His eyes wrinkled a little at the corners and his hair was thinning in a bald spot on his head. 

“How do I look?” Harry asked, turning around, dabbing the last bit of makeup over his scar.

“Very old,” Amelia nodded. 

“Good,” Harry said. “I’ll be off then.” 

Harry opened the door to the flat and soon he was gone. Amelia waved her wand at the kettle. She was too tired to not need tea this morning. She could not yet have caffeine, but even the thought of tea, herbal and decaffeinated as it was, was some help in starting her day.

She watched as the three other witches trickled into the kitchen.

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked.

“On his run,” Amelia answered. 

“But it’s his birthday.”

“He doesn’t want to celebrate this year,” Amelia said.

Ginny was surprised, Susan looked like someone had just told her a joke, Tonks poured herself a cup of coffee and slouched in a chair.

“Well,” Amelia said. “Are we going to let him decide that then?”

She didn’t get an answer from the girls before three owls knocked on a window.

Amelia went over and let them in. 

“I guess these must be for Harry,” she noticed another owl in the distance. 

Soon three packages and a _Daily Prophet_ donned the counter. 

“That one looks like it’s from the Burrow,” Ginny pointed out two packages on the counter. 

“This one is unmistakably Hagrid’s,” Susan pointed to a big package with coarse wrapping.

“And this one looks to be from Albus Dumbledore,” Amelia frowned as she picked up an envelope. “Well, it will have to wait until he gets back.”

Tonks, who had finished her three mugs of coffee, got up and went upstairs to get Harry’s present.

“Seriously, what am I supposed to do about those two?” Amelia rubbed her forehead. 

“So we weren’t the only ones who think it was weird that Harry and Tonks are avoiding each other,” Susan said. 

“No,” Amelia sighed. “They’ve barely spoken since the girls were born. They act like they don’t even know each other.”

Ginny and Susan shared a look. 

“We don’t talk because obviously, Harry doesn't want to talk to me,” Tonks said angrily. None of them had seen her come down again before they heard her voice. “He made his decision, and there is no room for _me_ in his life, so I am just _accommodating_ his wishes, as _always_. Now, if you are done gossiping about us, here is his present. I’ll go shower now and then head to the Ministry because he clearly doesn't want me to be around anymore.”

She turned on her heel and stormed upstairs, where she slammed the door to the bathroom.

Amelia looked upstairs with some concern but was completely stumped for solutions on how to fix the situation. She picked up the _Daily Prophet_ and looked at the front page. She was fighting hard to not crumble the paper up.

**PAWN OF PROPHECY OR BOY HERO?**

_The return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been confirmed, and sources inside the Ministry continue to report unknown connections to Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived._

_“Don’t ask me anything” said one flustered functionary. “Don’t know, couldn’t tell.”_

_The notoriously secretive Department of Mysteries, which may or may not exist, was reportedly the centre of the incident which may or may not have occurred Wednesday last, or not._

_The long-rumored depository of prophecies has been reportedly been breached by Dark Wizards, now believed to include confirmed Death Eaters now being held in Azkaban prison. Speculation persists that a prophecy relating to both Harry Potter and You Know Who was the target of the break-in._

_One member of the DMLE, speaking off the record, went so far as to call Potter “the Chosen One,” repeating the theory that Potter is named by prophecy as the only one able to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

She didn’t need to read more than that, so she looked at the remaining pile of _Daily Prophets_ on the counter in the kitchen.

A second newspaper lay beside the first. This one bore the headline:

**FUDGE OUT IN MINISTRY KERFUFFLE**

_Cornelius Fudge is out as Minister of Magic, the news broke this morning. The appointment of former DMLE head Rufus Scrimgeour signals a shift in priorities at the Ministry, as Wizarding Britain scrambles to address the return of You Know Who. Scrimgeour’s appointment has been broadly popular within walls of the Ministry itself, although there is a pro-Dumbledore faction within the Wizengamot, mostly among senior members who recall his role in the defeat of the Dark Wizard, Grindelwald, years ago. Headmaster Dumbledore, however, appears to have returned to his school and did not answer repeated owls asking for comment._

_Newly-appointed Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour refused to take questions regarding the safety of students returning to Hogwarts School._

_“The Ministry does not comment on plans to preserve public safety,” said the Minister through a spokes-wizard. Sources within the DMLE confide that precautions will include Aurors dedicated to the protection of Hogwarts._

Amelia would have done the same as Scrimgeour, but she felt it was likely more closely connected to Harry than it was to the rest of the students, which infuriated her. It was clear that the Ministry was trying to make Harry a symbol of hope so that they could keep the populace calm, subdued.

She would have to talk to Harry about this. He already had more than an inkling of suspicion towards the way the Ministry worked.

 _And I was part of that problem,_ Amelia sighed. _At least Scrimgeour is a man of action in comparison to Fudge._

Tonks stalked back into the kitchen, grabbed a piece of toast, buttered it, and was just about to walk to the fireplace when Amelia held up the newspaper towards her.

She watched as Tonks’s eyes turned from confusion to unconcealed anger. She didn’t say anything, but it seemed like the message came across. 

Ginny and Susan were watching the exchange between Tonks and Amelia, not making a sound.

“Well, you can see for yourself,” Amelia threw the newspaper to them at the table.

Susan was angry when she read the headline. Ginny was more controlled, but she looked like she was going to be sick after they read the front page.

“They can’t do that,” Susan said.

“They have,” Amelia said frostily. 

“But it’s not fair,” Ginny said.

“No it is not, but that is the reality of the situation,” Amelia said.

Harry arrived back after his run sweaty and exhausted. He had run for longer than he usually would. Something about today was putting him on edge.

 _Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t talked to Tonks at all,_ he thought to himself. _I miss hanging around with her. She always knows how to make me laugh._

He walked into the kitchen and found an awkward tension in the air.

“Look, I know, that I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday, but that should not be reason enough for this,” Harry said.

“They have started calling you the Chosen One,” Amelia said, handing him today’s _Daily Prophet_.

“I see,” Harry said, throwing it to the pile. “Anything else?” 

“You are not angry at that?” Amelia looked surprised.

“Well, they are surprisingly on point with this one,” Harry shrugged. “And I have long gotten used to being dragged to the front page of the _Prophet_ , it’s not anything new. I won’t help the Ministry, but at the same time it won’t help anything if I got angry about it.”

“I understand,” Amelia sighed. “There is a letter from Dumbledore in your post today.”

“Now, that is a surprise, the great Albus Dumbledore wishing me a happy birthday?” Harry mocked.

He waved his wand and the disguise was gone. He grabbed the letter from the counter and opened it up.

_My Dear Harry_

_I have written to you because the Will of Sirius Orion Black mentions you. I would like for you to meet me at Grimmauld Place Friday at seven for the reading of the will. You might also request Madam Amelia Bones to attend._

_My sincerest condolences on the death of your godfather._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry scoffed at the letter and handed it to Amelia, who quickly read through it.

“Fancy that, Albus Dumbledore can’t be bothered to notify Sirius’s own widow to attend a reading of his will. I always thought Sirius hadn’t written one,” Amelia frowned. 

“I want you to come with me,” Harry said, “if you feel up to it. I don’t trust Dumbledore enough to be alone with him.”

“Of course, I’ll be there,” Amelia said. “Do you want your presents now or do you want to take a shower first?” 

“Shower,” Harry said.

By the time he came back down Susan and Ginny were nowhere in sight.

“So, the two are saying a _proper_ goodbye?” Harry asked.

“I think so,” Amelia said, breastfeeding Castoria and Cassiopeia in her arms. 

Harry walked towards the pile of presents.

The Weasleys had sent Harry a card and an assortment of food for him. Ron had gotten him a single poster of the Chudley Cannons, which though simple was brand new, and probably taxed Ron's budget. Hagrid had sent him a large package of different _supplies_ , consisting of toffees and Rockcakes, which Harry was unsure what to do with. The Weasley Twins had sent him an assortment of their products, which were tailored towards more defensive applications.

Harry studied a container which said _Peruvian Darkness Powder_ , the accompanying note said that it would help with a quick get-away, nothing could penetrate the darkness. They also invited him to go to their store before school started, anything he wanted in the store would be free. 

He then turned to a gift from Amelia and Susan. He wasn’t sure what to expect but found a rucksack which was extended on the inside. 

“Thank you. What’s it for?” Harry asked Amelia, who had covered herself up.

“Well, between your studies, and your tinkering, and your unscheduled activities, you never know what you might need. You could fit anything from your school books to a tent and full survival gear in that rucksack, if you needed,” Amelia said seriously. 

“Thank you,” Harry said. “Hopefully I will never have need of the latter, but I like the idea of carrying all my important materials with me. Just in case.”

“I hope so, too,” Amelia said.

Harry turned to the last present, the wrapping kept changing colours. 

“That’s from Tonks,” Amelia said gauging his reaction.

“I see,” Harry ripped the paper and held up a Dragonskin coat identical to Tonks’s. 

He saw a note wrapped with it.

_I promised you to buy you a Dragonskin coat for your sixteenth birthday. This gift is also from Sirius, as he was with me when we ordered it. It should be the right size. I know you will look absolutely cool in it. I miss our conversations._

_Tonks_

Harry held the coat to his chest and felt his throat tighten up. He hadn’t expected to get anything from Sirius, and he felt guilty about the way he had treated Tonks during the past few weeks.

He ran towards the stairs and hid away in his room. He just ran his fingers over the coat. It felt cool against his skin. 

Harry spent the rest of the day in his room. He didn’t want to see anyone. When dinner came around, Harry was called down by Susan. 

Harry reached the kitchen.

 _“Happy Birthday!_ ”

Ron, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Fred and George, Susan, Amelia, Bill, Fleur Delacour, and Tonks were crowding around the table. 

Harry didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected anything.

“Don’t look so surprised, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Amelia owled and told us you didn’t feel like celebrating your birthday, but we couldn’t have that.” 

“I—” Harry began.

“Just accept it, mate,” Ron smiled. “You won’t win, trust me.”

Harry looked at their different faces. 

“Fleur? What are you doing here?” Harry asked incredulously. 

“Bill and I are dating,” Fleur said with her lilting accent, and she smiled as she hugged Bill’s arm. 

Harry spotted Mrs. Weasley’s less than approving face, but decided now was not the time. 

“Thank you all for coming,” Harry said simply. 

There was a round of congratulations before Harry stood in front of Tonks, who demonstratively looked slightly past his shoulder.

“Thank you for the gift,” Harry said sincerely. “It was incredibly touching."

He moved closer for a hug, he didn’t know if she would accept but he really was missing her. 

She looked fidgety as he moved closer, but she reluctantly returned his hug.

Soon the food was served and people began talking about what was going on. Nobody really talked about Hermione or Sirius. One side of the room was occupied with talking about the different happenings in the country during this time, while the other was gathered around the two youngest additions in the flat. Harry was not alone in finding himself drifting between the two groups.

“They are _très jolies_ ,” Fleur said.

“You should hear them, when they cry,” Susan muttered. “They stop being so _jolie_ when they are yelling their heads off.”

“It certainly makes me look forward to having _grandchildren_ ,” Mrs. Weasley said loud enough for Bill to nearly choke on his butterbeer. 

“Mum,” Bill groaned. 

Fleur, however, was just looking appraisingly at the man, which only made Bill blush even more. 

Harry spent a lot more time paying attention to Tonks than he expected to. He couldn’t really decide whether it was because he hadn’t talked or spent time with her in so long or it was because of the unspoken thing which now lived between them. He had never missed talking to Sirius as much as he did now. He didn’t always feel the void left behind by Sirius, but when it came to understanding his own feelings about witches, he could always go to talk to Sirius. 

Harry felt himself needing some time away from the party. He sneaked off when he thought no one was looking and found his way to the roof terrace. It had already grown dark outside, which meant it must be close to midnight. He looked up at the sky and found the star Sirius, the brightest in the sky and found in the Constellation of the Dog. 

Harry chuckled to himself as he stood there.

 _I don’t think Sirius’s mom had ever imagined how aptly named Sirius really was,_ Harry thought. 

“Hey, _dogfather_ , I don’t know if you can hear me,” Harry said into the darkness. “I really am in a lot of love-trouble right now. Hermione lost her memories, Voldemort obliviated her. She didn’t know who I was. Ron says she is getting better, but it is not like she remembers anything from the five years, it’s more like she is trying to paint a picture from the bits of information she has about her life rather than actually experiencing it. I’m terrified of seeing her again. She was … is the one, that I love, maybe even the love of my life. But what if she isn’t _her_ anymore?"

"I feel so bad even thinking like this, it feels like I’m betraying Hermione … not trusting her to actually remember or love me anymore when I don’t even have a clue if she does. I always thought nothing could move me in any way from how I felt about Hermione, but the way she looked at me and asked me who I was, it haunts me. It’s making me doubt her, or myself? …Maybe it would be better to not get my hopes up? I don’t know what to do, you know? And then there’s Tonks... you know, I don’t get why I never saw it before. She’s so beautiful, she is caring, she is funny and so strong."

"Oh, and Amelia gave birth to daughters, _two_. Imagine that, the famous heartbreaker Sirius Black actually became the father of two girls and he even got a bonus daughter and son in Susan and me. Auntie named the twins Castoria and Cassiopeia. Castoria is quieter, sometimes she scrunches up her face for a minute or so before crying. She definitely takes after Auntie. Cassiopeia takes after you, her hair is already growing out and it is as Black as her last name. She loves entertaining people, and I swear to Merlin, she will make this face, then fart and make it sound like something more, only to grin at you when you go to change her diaper. Her first prank. If there ever was any doubt that she is your child that blew it away. We all miss you, old man. Thanks for the Dragonskin coat. You were right. It really does look cool on me. I’m wearing it now, look.”

Harry turned around and found himself staring straight into Tonks’s eyes. He froze up.

“Uhm… Hi?” Harry said. 

“Hi,” Tonks looked embarrassed and concerned. “I just wanted to check if you were alright.” 

“So, how much of that did you hear?” Harry pulled a hand across his face. 

“Around the time you started calling me beautiful,” Tonks blushed.

“I meant it, though,” Harry said, sitting down on one of the beds. “It’s just… I made her a promise. I don’t know what will happen. She might not remember me, she might not care about me anymore, she might still love me. Even in a situation where she doesn’t want anything to do with me, I would feel horrible if I started something with you, with anyone else, I mean. I just don’t know what to do. I need Sirius for these kinds of talks.”

Tonks was still standing in the doorway. She was fighting hard against her tears. 

“I understand,” she said, almost grimly. “And you’re right, I am not a replacement for another woman. I won't. I will not be some sort of rebound if your relationship fails. I have to have some sort of pride. I deserve better.”

“I agree,” Harry said with the gravest expression Tonks had ever seen on his face. 

“I’m sorry about the way I have treated you since the twins were born,” Harry went on, his eyes filling with tears. “I really am an idiot, I managed to make my girlfriend lose everything, and during the summer I managed to push away the best friend I've ever had, someone I have never doubted cares for me. It’s almost laughable.”

Tonks clenched her fist tightly around the bottle. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know if she had the right to say anything, this was about her, but she would _not_ be a second choice for Harry to escape to when his life got tough. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said as he walked towards her. 

She tensed up, she didn’t know what to expect from him right now. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it a little.

“I think I’m going to bed,” he said. “Could you tell Auntie to send the guests on their way when the party's over? I think I am a little too tired to really enjoy it. Once again, thank you for the coat, I really love it.”

Harry felt anxious at dinner the next Friday, thinking ahead to talking with Dumbledore. All of their conversations had been after something bad had happened. No, having a conversation with Dumbledore was never a good idea. Harry was interested in Sirius’s will, but he felt like there was a catch, as with everything relating to the Headmaster. 

After dinner, Amelia extended her hand towards him and they apparated directly into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, Number 12. It was five minutes to seven. It looked like someone had ransacked the kitchen. Cupboards had been opened and the place looked upended. 

Harry paced around and waited. He didn’t like to be there at all. It reminded him of Sirius. Even was only a little dusty, it still felt dead and abandoned to him. 

When the clock struck seven there was a popping sound from the hallway. Albus Dumbledore appeared in the door with the same regal dignity he usually had about him. Harry noticed that his right hand was looking injured, burnt. He wanted to ask but now was not the time.

“I did not expect you to be here, Madam Bones,” Dumbledore said.

“Black,” Amelia replied. 

“I see,” Dumbledore said as he sat down on a chair at the table. 

“She has as much right to hear Sirius’s will as I do,” Harry said as they sat opposite Dumbledore. 

“Quite,” Dumbledore replied as he took out a parchment from his robes. He looked down on it, adjusted his glasses, and began reading.

_I, Sirius Orion Black, leave this last will and testimony. In the case of my death:_

_Amelia, my dear wife and mother to our child, I can only hope that you are alive and well, and know that I regret leaving you above all in this world. I have set aside half the money in the Black family vault for the raising of our child._

“It was twins, you idiot,” Amelia smiled sadly. 

Dumbledore continued.

_To Harry James Potter, the godson I never deserved to have. I leave to you my property at Grimmauld Place, my servant Kreacher, and one-quarter of the contents of the Black family vault, so you may build a home and family of your own in more peaceful times._

Harry smiled bitterly at that.

_Lastly, to Susan Amelia Bones, the daughter I never imagined in my life. I leave to you the remaining one-quarter of the contents of the Black family vault, to help you start on your own life, at such a time as it is needed._

_Under no circumstances will any of the Black estate go to my cousins, Narcissa Malfoy or Bellatrix Lestrange. In the circumstances that all of the named recipients leave no descendants, my entire estate will go to my cousin Andromeda Tonks, or in case of her death to her daughter, Nymphadora Tonks._

_If no surviving heirs to the above stated can be found, my estate should be_

_dedicated to supporting research at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies._

_Witnessed this day, signed, and sealed under incantation, etc._

_Sirius Orion Black_

_Addendum: I have had a portrait done and placed in the study. I know it is not the same as me being there, but I want my child—our children, I suppose—to at least be able to speak with their father. This I leave to my beloved wife, Amelia._

“Is this real?” Harry asked. 

“Well, according to usual wizarding law, Sirius’s legacy should have gone to his oldest living relative, Bellatrix upon his death, as his children weren’t born at the time,” Dumbledore said.

“So this place might already be _that woman’s_ property,” Harry paled. “The woman who killed him. How do we know if the will worked?”

“It’s quite simple, Harry,” Amelia said. “Sirius gave you his house and his servant. If the will is in effect, then Kreacher would have to listen to you.”

Dumbledore waved his wand, and there was a loud crack. 

Harry didn’t want to see the house-elf who had betrayed them all.

The snivelling, crying House-elf was hitting the floor with his small fists.

“No, Kreacher does not want to go to the Potter Brat, Kreacher wants to go to Mistress Lestrange, Kreacher wants his new mistress,” Kreacher cried on the floor. "Kreacher won't go, he won't."

Dumbledore spoke loudly over Kreacher’s continued croaks of “Won't, won’t, won’t!”

“As you can see, Harry,” he said, “Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership.” 

“I don’t care,” said Harry, looking with disgust at the writhing, sobbing house-elf. “I don’t want him.” 

“Won’t, won’t, won’t, won’t —” 

“You would prefer him to pass, along with this property, into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange? Bear in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year.” 

“—won’t, won’t, won’t —” 

Harry stared at Dumbledore. He knew that Kreacher could not be permitted to go to Bellatrix Lestrange, but the idea of owning the elf, of having responsibility for the creature that had betrayed Sirius, Tonks, Hermione, all of them, was repugnant to Harry. 

“There has to be some sort of test, to see if he is still under our, er, my control?” Harry was regarding the eld, who was still pounding his ancient fists on the floor in a full tantrum.

“Won’t, won’t, won’t, WON’T!” Kreacher screeched, his voice growing hoarse. “Kreacher wants his Mistress, not the filthy boy!”

Harry snapped. “Be quiet, you stupid creature. I’m trying to save your life!”

Eyes bulging, Kreacher locked rigidly in place. He stared Harry down in shocked silence, and the sudden cessation of his wailing was almost ominous, oppressively silent.

“Fascinating,” Dumbledore observed drily. “Your godfather was a terror and a rebel, but he did know his wizard family law, apparently. Harry, the house-elf, and the house, of course, are yours indeed.”

“Smashing,” said Harry archly. “But I’m certainly not moving here.”

“Well, we aren’t bringing him home,” Amelia chimed in, regarding the elf with disgust.

“Do you plan to leave him to his own devices?” Dumbledore asked, and Harry immediately saw a sly look cross Kreacher’s pinched face.

Harry grinned. “Kreacher, I want you to go to Hogwarts, and help out the elves there.”

Kreacher’s lower lip began to tremble.

“If there is any doubt as to your orders,” Harry continued, “you are to check with Dobby.”

Kreacher hung his head.

“Dobby,” Harry said, twisting the knife, “is a _free elf.”_

Kreacher looked up with undisguised horror for just a moment before he disappeared with a somehow sullen-sounding “crack.”

Dumbledore regarded Harry for a moment without speaking, and Harry returned his look as if daring the Headmaster to criticise his handling of the elf.

“Interesting,” Dumbledore muttered. “Before you go, there is something else, an urgent errand which would benefit from your assistance. For the school.”

Harry had been tempted to tell the old man where to put his “urgent errand,” before Dumbledore played the trump card of the school. Harry felt little loyalty to Dumbledore directly, but Hogwarts was another matter. Harry hung his head.

“What do you need him for?” Amelia respected Dumbledore’s position and his experience, but she was not afraid to question him directly, and with characteristic directness.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, ignoring Amelia’s urgency while addressing her question, “I need your assistance in recruiting a certain wizard to return to Hogwarts as an instructor. Professor Horace Slughorn.”

Amelia nodded. “Interesting choice. It certainly would be tempting for him to return to Hogwarts if Harry was there as bait.”

“Bait? Why?” Harry asked.

“Slughorn is a collector,” Amelia explained. “He would hand-pick students into his little club, He did it while I was a student. Sometimes, one of them would turn out to become somebody. He would then ride on their coat-tails as they rose to fame and success.”

“I get it,” Harry grimaced. “The Chosen One. Why is it so important that he comes back to Hogwarts?”

“Horace and I have a long history, as you might imagine—“ Dumbledore began, leaning back to look over his spectacles, but Harry interrupted him.

“And he has something you want, and you want me to help you get it.” Harry grinned sourly to Amelia, and she nodded.

Dumbledore thought for a moment and agreed with Harry’s assessment.

“The good professor has something—a memory—in his possession relating to my former student, Tom Riddle. I think this memory might be critical to us understanding the threat now posed by the self-aggrandized ‘Lord Voldemort.’ Further, I believe that Horace, if he can be convinced to return to Hogwarts, will eventually agree to share this memory.”

Harry sighed, and put his hand on Amelia’s shoulder.

“He’s right, Auntie. It’s worth a try. I have to go with him.”

She gave Harry a long look and nodded.

Dumbledore took Harry’s hand, and in a moment, they were gone.

Amelia sighed and retrieved the portrait of Sirius, which she set at the table. She poured herself a cup of tea, and regarded the painting of her late husband, dozing restlessly in his frame.

“Hullo, love,” she said brightly, rousing the slumbering marauder.

“What, what is—Amelia? Darling!” Sirius was awake, and nearly alive, nearly back, and his sparkling eyes and sly grin tore at her heart even as her face broke into an undeniable grin. His face fell a bit as he examined hers.

“Oh,” he said, “if we’re talking, that can’t be good, can it?”

Her smile faltered, but she persevered. “Hello, you old mutt. I have to say, regardless, that it’s good to see you.”

He motioned to her cup of tea, steaming at her elbow, and spoke while pain battled with love in his eyes.

“Drink your tea, and start at the beginning. For the first time in all our history together, I have literally nothing but time.”

Dumbledore apparated back into the Grimmauld Place kitchens sometime much later, a sour-faced Harry holding to his arm. Apparition was still not high on Harry’s list of preferred methods of travel, it seemed.

“I do wish you would reconsider, Harry,” Dumbledore was saying. “You may find that sharing your thoughts with your friends brings you a sense of relief, but merely adds to their burdens.

Harry was already shaking his head,

“Hello, Auntie.” He turned his attention back to the Headmaster. “Aunt Amelia saw the last war, and Tonks is a trained Auror. The others, what they have seen and done already… I will be the judge of who I tell what, and when, Professor.”

Dumbledore shrugged. “I cannot tell you what to do any longer, Harry, but my advice is still to think carefully.”

“Harry, is that you?” Sirius’s voice called out from his portrait, currently turned to face Amelia at the table.

Harry flinched for just a moment at the sound of his voice, then called back. “Just a moment, Sirius. Auntie, are we ready to go? It must be very late.”

Amelia stood, nodding. “More than ready, thank you.”

For a brief moment, she scrutinized Dumbledore, as if looking for some visible sign of what plans he still had in store for Harry. She sighed briefly before she twisted on the spot with Harry on one arm and Sirius’s painting under the other.

Dumbledore, taking stock of his whole long night with Harry, nodded a bit sadly to himself, and likewise winked out of existence, leaving only a gentle wafting of air and a subtle popping sound behind in the otherwise empty kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter that required major editing and rewriting to meet the community standards guidelines in regards to Fair Use restrictions. Fingers crossed, that should not be a problem now.
> 
> For the details of Harry and Dumbledore's journey to recruit Horace Slugnorne, you might consult the canon version of "Half-Blood Prince" or the previously posted version of this story if you still have it.
> 
> -Killjoy


	13. Leo Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry receives news, deals with his love life, and discovers how exactly a painting of his dogfather fits into his life.
> 
> • Harry reflects on his time with Dumbledore, including Dumbledore's cursed hand,  
> • Harry's inheritance  
> • Tonks gets advice of her own  
> • Life in a frame  
> • "Men are not built to be gods, Harry."  
> • O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s  
> • "the charm of Quidditch players"  
> • The corporeal Patronus  
> • "she's not a cougar, she's a puma"  
> • "Leo?!"

**Chapter 13**. **Leo Returns**

Harry found himself standing in the living room of Carnaby Street. He felt tired, too many things had happened tonight and the tension he felt was quickly leaving his body. Harry sent a grateful look towards Amelia.

“Auntie, you and Sirius can have a talk tonight,” Harry said gruffly. “I think I need some sleep. Talk to you tomorrow Sirius.”

“I understand,” Amelia said. “Goodnight.”

Harry looked at the portrait in Amelia’s arm for a second before he headed upstairs. 

“Goodnight,” Sirius’s muffled voice came from the painting.

“Goodnight,” Harry said casually before walking up the stairs and heading to bed. 

He sat down on the edge of his bed and replayed the events of the evening. He was most curious about Dumbledore’s injury. He had never seen the man injured before and it was a serious enough injury that it couldn’t be fixed even with Snape’s help. Harry hated to admit it, but Snape was a master at potions and he was well versed in the Dark Arts. He could probably identify most poisons and curses. 

Harry sighed. 

_Why am I even thinking about this?_ He thought to himself. _It’s not like the man would answer me if I asked about it._

Harry fell back into the bed. His head was spinning. He just became the owner of a house. A giant house really. It was so extended it was closer to a mansion than a house. He had a house-elf now, one which hated him as if he were the filthiest of abominations. His godfather had gotten a portrait done. That was good news, he could actually talk about his problems. 

_With a painting,_ Harry chuckled to himself. _Well, it’s better than nothing._

Harry rose from his bed, he wanted to take a shower. It was fast approaching midnight. The trip to Slughorn had felt quick, but apparently, it had taken hours. He spotted himself in the mirror.

 _Still disguised,_ Harry grimaced to himself. _I should get out of it._

He reached for his wand and moved to remove the disguise, but somehow he didn’t have the energy. 

_I can do it after my shower,_ he thought. 

Soon after the water was hitting his shoulders and his long blonde hair was plastered to the side of his face.

“I should have removed the disguise first,” Harry muttered to himself as he wiped the long strands of hair out of his face. 

He stumbled back to his door only wrapped in a towel. He heard a door being opened but he didn’t have the energy to focus on it. He was tired, really tired. He opened the door and stumbled in. He quickly removed the disguise and fell asleep on the bed. 

The sunlight hit Harry’s face. He was feeling exhausted. His muscles were sore from the constant training he had done in the past months. It was like everything had accumulated and only now was hitting him at the same time. He could barely move his legs over the side of the bed frame. He let out a large groan. A deep guttural groan from his very depths. 

“Why is nothing simple?” Harry muttered to himself. 

Harry pulled on his training clothes. His muscles might be sore, but a little light workout would help release the tension. He walked out of his bedroom and headed downstairs. He was surprised to hear low voices from the kitchen. 

_Maybe Auntie is awake and talking to Sirius,_ Harry thought to himself. 

He walked quietly down the stairs. It was a habit at this point, it wasn’t like he wanted to sneak around. It was just safer if nobody noticed him. 

“...I honestly don’t know what to do…”

“What do you want to happen?” Sirius’s voice came from around the corner. 

“Right now?” It was not his Auntie’s voice.

“Yes. If you could choose, what would you want to do right now?” 

“Sleep, forget about everything. I’ve been thinking, dreaming about this for years…”

“And now when it is a possibility?” Sirius’s voice was uncharacteristically somber. 

Harry purposefully knocked his foot into the corner of a table.

“Ouch,” he muttered as he grabbed his foot to rub his toes.

 _That should do it,_ Harry thought. 

Harry spotted a rather tired-looking Tonks coming out of the kitchen. 

“Morning,” he said. 

“Morning,” Tonks replied. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe on the table,” Harry grimaced. 

“Oh, okay,” Tonks looked conflicted, her eyes darting towards the kitchen. 

“Did I interrupt something?” Harry asked, concerned.

“No, no,” Tonks waved her hand. “I was just talking to Sirius, nothing important. It’s weird having him back you know?”

“Oi!” Sirius’s voice came from the kitchen. “I heard that!”

“Yes, yes,” Tonks said with a mischievous smile. “Be careful, your paint might smudge if you cry so much.”

Harry laughed. The fatigue he felt in his mind and body was melting like snow on a spring day. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, low enough that he thought no one would hear him,

“What was that?” Tonks’s hazel eyes looked into his. 

“Thank you, for making me laugh,” Harry smiled.

Tonks had to calm herself for a second when she looked at that smile. It was the first genuine smile from him she had seen all summer. He hadn’t smiled quite like that on their outing with Ginny and Susan. He hadn’t smiled like that on his birthday. It was like all the burdens the young man in front of her was carrying had fallen off his shoulders for a second.

 _And it looks good on him,_ Tonks caught herself thinking. _I cannot blush in front of him. Stop being so charming, you goddamn git._

Harry stretched his body from his bent position of holding his foot. 

“You just came back from work?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Tonks yawned. “I like a quiet night shift, but I hate the sleep schedule.” 

“I can imagine,” Harry smiled. “You want breakfast or anything before sleep?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” Tonks shook her head. “Thanks for asking though.”

“Anytime,” Harry said as he hugged her. “Sleep tight.”

Tonks just nodded as she walked off. 

Harry went into the kitchen.

“Good Moooorning, pup,” Sirius bellowed from his painting, ending with a mischievous smile. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry waved his hand. “How’s the artistic life suiting you?” 

“Better than expected,” Sirius joked. “Money is hard to come by, and I must admit I could have used a better background.” 

“Seen the twins yet?” Harry asked. 

“Yes,” Sirius nodded excitedly. “Aren’t they fabulous?”

“Indeed they are,” Harry smiled. “Cassiopeia is very similar to you, a true prankster.” 

Sirius laughed. 

“That’s my girl!” 

Harry chuckled at the painting’s antiques.

“How does it work?” he asked.

“You mean the painting?” Sirius asked. “It’s rather simple actually. It’s like an imprint, not unlike ghosts, I guess. I’m not the real Sirius, but rather like everything Sirius was at the time when he—that is to say, I— posed for the artist. I don’t really grow anymore, but it lets me be part of Castoria and Cassiopeia’s life, so it was the right choice.”

“I see,” Harry said. “Well, I must admit I am happy you had it made.”

“Me too, pup,” Sirius grinned. 

Harry sat down at the kitchen table, he had poured himself a mug of boiling water and was idly playing around with a teabag in it.

“What’s on your mind?” Sirius asked.

“Voldemort obliviated Hermione,” Harry said. “Lost five years of memory. About Hogwarts, and magic... ”

“And you,” Sirius continued.

“Yeah,” Harry dunked the teabag a couple of more times in the mug before throwing it to the sink. Small splatters flew through the air.

“You better clean that up before Amelia gets here,” Sirius said. 

“I will.”

“So, Hermione doesn’t remember you,” Sirius said scratching his painted chin. “You still together?” 

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “It’s not like we broke up, but…”

“But if she doesn’t remember you, and if she thinks she is eleven years old…”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded sipping the bitter tea. 

“Sheesh,” Sirius exhaled. “I’m dead for one summer and all this happens.” 

Harry didn’t say anything. He just idly swirled his mug around.

“So?” Sirius asked.

“So, John, erm - Mr. Granger is not a fan of mine,” Harry grimaced. 

“I can imagine that,” Sirius nodded. 

“He doesn’t want me to be part of her life at all,” Harry said solemnly. 

“Understandable.”

“Ron says she is getting better. He’s been the only one allowed to see her outside of family and her healers,” Harry said bitterly. “Apparently, it is good for her to have some contact with people her own age.”

“And you’re jealous, are you?” Sirius lifted a single eyebrow.

“Of course, I’m jealous,” Harry looked up, his grievances pouring out of him. “I am her boyfriend, I am the one who is supposed to help her get better, not a tall, lanky, red-haired git like Ron Weasley. He was always skiving off, didn’t do any work and he never took anything seriously. Why is it him and not me?” 

“Because you would overwhelm her. And you say Ron _was_ these things?” 

Harry stared angrily into his mug. “He’s been loads better lately, actually,” Harry admitted painfully.

“You haven’t told this to anyone else have you?” Sirius asked.

“No,” Harry grumbled. “How could I? They all want me to be this cool and collected and mature person. Do you know what they started calling me? ‘The Chosen One.’ It’s laughable, I’m just a sixteen-year-old kid who lost you and my girlfriend in one night. I have a mass murderer gunning for me. I have an old man thinking he is doing the world a favour by only half-preparing me to fight against the mass murderer, and the whole world just thinks that I am going to be alright with it. Well, I’m NOT!”

Sirius didn’t say anything. He just let Harry vent everything he needed to. 

“But that’s not everything…” Harry said quietly, looking around.

“What is it then?” Sirius asked.

Harry grabbed his wand from the table and quickly threw some privacy spells. 

“Is that really needed?” Sirius asked bemusedly. “I promise you. I have no plans on telling anyone what we’re talking about.”

“Well, maybe not,” Harry shrugged. “But this is… difficult. I think I might be falling in love with Tonks.”

“Okay, I take that back,” Sirius said surprised. “You definitely do need those privacy spells.”

“Please,” Harry groaned. “I need you to focus.” 

“Alright,” Sirius sobered up from his mischievous smile.

“I noticed it over the summer. Tonks looks … _good_ , like really good.” Harry grimaced. “She’s beautiful and funny, and, I don’t know, just amazing. I mean, I’ve always loved Tonks, but _loving_ Tonks? She makes me feel relaxed and calm, but also nervous and excited, too. It’s just…”

“You feel like an absolute shit because you and Hermione are still together,” Sirius said. 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. He took a sip of his tea, which was tasting colder and even more bitter. “I mean, I know that I love Hermione. Right?”

“We’ll see. You don’t know if it’s right for you to break up with Hermione because of what’s happened between you? Or if you really want to?” Sirius asked. 

Harry nodded once more. 

“You actually want _her_ to break up with _you_ so that you feel better about the situation,” Sirius said. 

Harry almost slammed his forehead to the table. 

“Well, you are right, you are an absolutely shitty human being,” Sirius said. 

“Hey, now,” Harry groaned from the table.

“Don’t blame me: I’m just paint on canvas, you’re the one with life troubles. But it is understandable,” Sirius said. “Look, do you still love Hermione?” 

“Of course,” Harry looked up with an angry face. “At least, I still love the woman she was.”

“There you are,” Sirius nodded. “Well even though you are being a shit, it is still probably the right way to feel about it.”

“Really? So, I’m supposed to feel awful?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “It’s an awful situation. It might be cowardly, but in your position, nothing you do is going to be the right choice.”

“I think I might be forgetting Hermione,” Harry admitted fearfully. “It’s like, everything she was to me is slowly getting erased. Not the important details, but the emotions behind them, the urgency...”

“You’re not forgetting her, Harry,” Sirius said. “I know you think that, but it isn’t true, son.”

“I remember her face, her hands, her eyes… but what did she taste like after she brushed her teeth? How did the sun on her hair look when she fell asleep, nose in her books that time on the train? It’s like the memories are right there but I can’t quite feel them properly!”

“That’s not forgetting, Harry,” Sirius told him again. “That’s _healing_. Your mind plays tricks, making you think that every memory is perfect, but it only feels that way for a short time. Real memories are imperfect, they’re coloured by our emotions, by time, and even by newer memories. We don’t even notice—we’re not meant to. But your memories of Hermione, you’re trying to freeze them in amber, to hold them in time until she can catch up to you, but that isn’t how we work, Harry.”

“Why?” The anguish in Harry’s voice was wrenching, raw. His questions were not so much for Sirius as for the world itself. “Why are we made this way, if it hurts so much?”

“We’re built to be hurt—broken even—by our struggles. But in order to survive, we are also built to heal. Men are not built to be gods, Harry.” Sirius said. “You recognizing your feelings for Tonks is part of that, too.” 

“It still doesn’t make it feel right,” Harry said angrily. 

“Of course it doesn’t,” Sirius said. “But that’s how time works. You’re already feel something is different between you and Hermione, how could it not be?” 

“She asked me who I was,” Harry muttered. “It was right then something broke, inside. The way her eyes looked at me, but she didn’t _see_ me. It just felt wrong, she looked at me like I was a stranger. It hurt so much.”

Harry and Sirius’s conversation got interrupted by the entrance of Amelia carrying the twins in her arms. 

“What’s so secret all these enchantments are up?” she asked. 

Harry sent a look towards the painting, an ‘ _if you don’t shut up I will burn your painting’_ kind of look.

“Just father-son talk,” Sirius smiled. “Look at my two lovelies. Aren’t they so cute? Get that from their father...”

Amelia shook her head in exasperation. She walked over to Harry.

“Help me with one of them,” she said. “My arms feel like they are falling off.” 

Harry smiled and reached out to hold Cassiopeia. He had a better affinity with her, while Susan somehow had a closer connection with Castoria. It wasn’t like he was playing favourites, but somehow Castoria would cry sooner if Harry was holding her for too long. Cassiopeia, however, would begin laughing as soon as she saw Harry’s black hair. 

Sirius was pouting from his painting. 

“It’s not fair, how come Harry gets to hold _my_ daughter,” Sirius moaned. 

“Because you’re a painting dear,” Amelia chided. “On the bright side, you get to watch them grow up even if it is from a distance.” 

Sirius still pouted, but a smile was creeping up on him as Amelia sat down in front of him so he could look at Castoria. 

“She looks just like her beautiful mother,” Sirius commented. 

“So now I get credit?” Amelia teased. “Let’s hope she also has her mother’s sense so that she doesn’t grow up as foolish as her father.”

“You wound me, Love,” Sirius held a hand to his heart in a theatrical way.

“Yes, yes,” Amelia smiled. 

“I am so going to teach them the art of pranking,” Sirius said from his frame. 

“If I catch you teaching either of your daughters any such thing, I will have you put at the bottom of a trunk,” Amelia threatened. “Under a pile of old socks.”

“Son, help an old man out here,” Sirius begged. “How can my daughters not become the menaces of Hogwarts? It’s their legacy!”

Harry chuckled at the odd couple’s antics. 

_I envy them,_ Harry thought. _Sirius might just be a painting, but they still look happy together._

“I think your O.W.L. results should be coming soon,” Amelia said. “It’s around the beginning of August so that the students can plan for their N.E.W.T.s.” 

“Ah, I remember getting my O.W.L.s,” Sirius recalled. “I got an O in Transfiguration and Charms, didn’t care much for the rest of the subjects, so I was hovering around E and O’s in most of them. Mostly it was to beat your Dad or Mum if I did really well.”

Harry felt anxious. 

“There is no need to be nervous,” Amelia said with a smile. “You’ve probably done well in most of your classes. Some of your skills are already beyond N.E.W.T. levels at this point.”

“Well, that is only after you spent the summer teaching me, Auntie,” Harry fretted. 

“You underestimate yourself,” Amelia smiled. “You were always a hardworking student.”

Harry groaned but didn’t say much. He was saved by the fact that Susan arrived in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she yawned, as she unconsciously moved towards Castoria in Amelia’s arms. “How is my favourite little sister?”

“Oi!” Sirius barked. “There is to be no favouritism among my daughters.”

Susan had almost jumped when she heard Sirius’s voice.

“Sirius?” she asked when she looked at the painting.

“Yeah,” Sirius smiled. 

“How?” Susan asked. “When?”

“Well, I paid someone to paint me,” Sirius teased. “It was mostly just in case something happened, which turns out to have been good thinking. I didn’t want to leave my children without a way of speaking to me, even if it is just a poor imitation of the real thing.”

“And I am grateful for that, love,” Amelia said.

“Ugh… Susan groaned. “I did not expect to ever watch Auntie flirt with a painting.”

“I am not,” Amelia blushed.

“A little,” Harry teased, as Sirius and Susan laughed. 

“You know what,” Amelia had a threatening smile on her face. “I haven’t really been able to move around much for the past half a year, I could really use a good workout. What do you think, Harry? Don’t you need a sparring partner?”

Harry felt a shiver down his spine, which was entirely unrelated to the warm August weather.

“Erm…” Harry said, feeling cold sweat forming on his back. “I would love to …”

He was interrupted once more by the sound of an owl pecking at the window. 

Harry got up and opened the window, the owl flew in and landed on the kitchen table. It dropped two letters before it flew off once more. 

“Speak of the devil,” Amelia said, picking up the envelopes with one hand. “Hogwarts-crest indeed.”

She handed the letters to Susan and Harry. Harry sat down with Cassiopeia on his arm still. He quickly tore open the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside.

**Ordinary Wizarding Level Results**

_Pass Grades:_

Outstanding (O), Exceeds Expectations (E), Acceptable (A)

_Fail Grades:_

Poor (P), Dreadful (D), Troll (T)

_Harry James Potter has achieved:_

Arithmancy: E

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: O

Defence Against the Dark Arts: O

Herbology: E

History of Magic: P

Potions: O

Study of Ancient Runes: O

Transfiguration: O

Harry read the parchment several times, his breathing becoming easier with each reading. He couldn’t help a smile from creeping upon his face. 

“So, pup? How did you do?” Sirius almost demanded from his frame. 

“Failed History of Magic,” Harry said mischievously as he put on a mask of sadness. 

“Don’t give me that, son,” Sirius grinned. “Out with it.”

Harry read out the results from all of his O.W.L.s. 

“Sheesh,” Sirius ruffled his hair. “You certainly beat both James and me. Must be Lily’s genes, though you are still just short of her.”

“What did my mother get?” Harry asked curiously. 

“Full O’s,” Sirius grinned. “She was being rather smug about it too.” 

Harry groaned. 

“Susan, what about you?” Amelia asked. 

“Not as good as Harry, but at least I didn’t fail History of Magic,” Susan teased. 

“I’d like to see you do well in an exam if Voldemort was trying to enter your mind,” Harry fired back. 

Susan had long gotten over the use of his name. She just stuck out her tongue at him.

“Four O’s, and everything passed,” Amelia smiled proudly as she read through Susan’s results.

“It’s Harry’s teaching which got me an Outstanding in Defence,” Susan smiled at him. 

“It was nothing,” Harry smiled back. 

“So, what classes are you thinking of taking?” Amelia looked at them.

“Defence, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Runes, Arithmancy and Herbology,” Harry said. 

“Ambitious,” Amelia said.

“I know,” Harry said. “But I need at least five N.E.W.T.s of E or higher if I want to be eligible for the Auror program. Runes and Arithmancy are just extra. Runework could be useful for curse-breaking or even setting up defensive perimeters. I don’t think it’s a bad choice. Same with Arithmancy, I could use it to calculate spells. The others are more for survival.”

“You really want to become an Auror?” Sirius asked from his painting. 

“Yeah,” Harry blushed. “Moody said I would be good at it, and so did Barty Crouch, Jr. actually.”

“You could be brilliant,” Amelia said. “I don’t think you will have many problems in those classes after your study this summer.” 

“Honestly, I was most worried about Potions,” Harry said. “Professor Snape only takes O’s in his classes. What are you thinking, Susan?” 

“I don’t know,” Susan frowned. “I didn’t get an O in Potions, so I can’t take it. I might have wanted to become an Auror too.” 

“Oh, dear,” Amelia frowned. “I am not going to tell you that I approve of your chosen path, but taking potions won’t be a problem for you. Professor Slughorn is usually fine with taking E’s in his Potions class.”

“But isn’t Professor Snape the potions teacher?” Harry asked.

“I suspect that Professor Snape finally got his long-cherished wish of teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. Horace Slughorn certainly has no qualifications teaching that subject.”

Harry looked up at Amelia’s face in shock. 

“Oooh, is Slughorn going back to Hogwarts?” Sirius asked.

“It would seem so,” Amelia said.

“Why?” Sirius asked.

“Dumbledore dangled Harry as bait for it,” Amelia said coldly. 

Sirius made a face that was remarkably close to his face in his Animagus form. 

“Oh, did he now?”

“Indeed, he did,” Amelia said. “Enough of that, love, it is apparently necessary. It is better than the Ministry sending another Umbridge to teach at Hogwarts.” 

“Agreed,” Harry and Susan said in unison.

“She really wasn’t liked much,” Amelia mused. 

“She was the worst,” Susan said. “Horrible teacher and even worse as a human being.”

“I see,” Amelia said.

Harry and Susan spent the day celebrating their results. They felt fantastic knowing that they were now N.E.W.T. students at the school. They now waited excitedly for their new booklists, so they could plan for their trip to Diagon Alley. Tonks had even been in a celebratory mood when she heard Harry’s results. She had rushed in and hugged him tightly when she heard he was planning to become an Auror. Harry had enjoyed that hug a little more than his conscience encouraged him to. 

The next morning the letters from Hogwarts arrived. Harry’s included another surprise: he had been made Quidditch Captain.

“Really raking in all the titles in Gryffindor aren’t you?” Susan teased.

“Heh,” Harry laughed as he ruffled his hair. 

“Well congratulations,” Susan said. “I still hope Hufflepuff will beat you guys in the cup. Though it looks like it isn’t going to be a reality this year with you back on the team.”

“I’m honestly surprised,” Harry admitted. “I think Ginny would have done a much better job at being Quidditch Captain than me.” 

“Harry, you taught almost thirty people Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Susan sighed. “We also both know how much you taught the previous year’s team alongside Johnson. You are the correct choice.” 

Sirius was in a festive mood in his frame. 

“That’s my boy,” he hollered when Harry showed him the badge. “You are making your dad and your godfather proud. Let me tell you, there is nothing more attractive to witches than a Quidditch Captain.” 

“Sirius!” Amelia said in a reprimanding tone. 

“He’s right Auntie,” Susan said. “There _is_ something about Quidditch players.”

“Not everyone has a thing for Quidditch players,” Amelia groaned. 

“I played Quidditch for the Gryffindor Team,” Sirius smiled from his frame.

“Shut it,” Amelia said. “I did not like you for your Quidditch.”

“So what was it?” Sirius teased. “My good looks, my charming smile, my good grades?” 

“If you don’t shut your mouth right now, I will make good on my threat,” Amelia smiled sinisterly. 

That had given Sirius such a fright that he had clammed his mouth shut and hadn’t said a word the rest of the day as far as Amelia knew. Sirius had beckoned Harry over as soon as Amelia was gone to teach him all about the charm of Quidditch Players.

Harry had sat down with a book, while Amelia contacted the necessary people from the Order to act as guards while they went out. She was coordinating with Molly so that Ron and Ginny would join them too. 

Harry heard a knock on the doorframe to the study. He looked up and found a rather hesitant Tonks standing in the doorway.

“Something I can help you with?” Harry asked.

“Ugh… this is embarrassing,” Tonks muttered just loud enough for Harry to hear it.

“What is going on?” he asked.

“Could you … me … perform… a ….” Tonks muttered incomprehensibly.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Harry smiled. 

“Could you teach me how to perform a corporeal Patronus?” Tonks said completely red in the face.

“You can’t do that?” Harry asked.

“No,” Tonks pouted. “I never got the hang of it and Defence has been a joke for so long at Hogwarts, that I never got to learn it. Even in Auror training, there isn’t anyone who teaches it.”

“Of course, I’ll teach you,” Harry said with a smile as he closed his book. “Upstairs?”

Tonks nodded quickly and rushed upstairs. Harry chuckled a little to himself as he watched her back. 

_Not her behind,_ he admonished himself. _Just her back._

Harry found her with her wand out and ready.

“Okay,” Harry said with a smile. “The Patronus Charm is a highly complex charm, which is fuelled by your emotions. It works by taking the power of a happy memory to spark the Patronus into existence.” 

Tonks looked focused. She nodded solemnly.

“Got the memory?” Harry asked. “The incantation is _Expecto Patronum_.”

“ _Expecto Patronum,_ ” Tonks said, pointing her wand into the training space.

A few wisps of white light appeared at the end of her wand.

“Much better than I did on my first try,” Harry smiled. “I didn’t manage to produce anything.”

Tonks looked rather proud of herself at his praise.

“But,” Harry said “it will not be enough to stop a dementor. You need to find another memory and really focus on it. Feel the emotions it brings in your body and let them flow into your arm and out through your wand.”

Tonks’s eyebrows were pulled together. The look of pure concentration on her face drew Harry’s gaze like a siren to her. He just waited as she looked through her memories one after another. 

“I think I’ve got it,” Tonks said excitedly as she opened her eyes.

“Good,” Harry coughed, trying to make it seem like he hadn’t been staring for the past minute.

Tonks concentrated once more and lifted her wand.

 _“Expecto Patronum_ ,” she said loudly.

A thick cloud of white was spread out in front of her as it acted as a shield in front of her. 

“Brilliant,” Harry smiled. “You are doing amazingly.”

“Thanks,” Tonks blushed. “But it’s not good enough. I need it to be a corporeal Patronus to drive off dementors!”

“One step at a time,” Harry smiled. “Atlantis wasn’t built in a day.” 

“I know,” Tonks said. “It’s just… with all these dementor attacks happening.” 

“It’s going to be alright,” Harry said. “Come on, find another one. I have found that love works wonders on the charm.”

“I see,” Tonks’s smile faded a little. 

Harry watched as she concentrated once more. He was sure if she found the right memory, she would make a corporeal Patronus. 

_“Expecto Patronum!”_ Tonks almost shouted out of nowhere, and a beautiful large cat pounced around the room. 

“Congratulations,” Harry smiled. “Is that a cougar?”

“It’s not a cougar, it’s a _puma_ ,” Tonks blushed. 

“So … a cougar, eh?” 

“Shut up!” 

The blushing had now spread to her hair and she was standing there rather bashfully as the puma walked next to her and disappeared.

“You do it then,” Tonks said fiercely. “Do it so I can make fun of yours, too.”

Harry laughed and shrugged his shoulders. 

“As you wish,” he focused on the memory of his first kiss with Hermione. _“Expecto Patronum!”_

Nothing happened. Harry sent a hand to his chest and idly rubbed it.

“Something wrong?” Tonks asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “It’s like … I guess the memory isn’t as happy anymore.”

“What did you focus on?” Tonks asked. 

“A happy memory,” Harry said. “Or so I thought. It hurts to think about now.”

Tonks didn’t need to hear more to guess what kind of memory Harry was talking about. She didn’t say anything, but there was something in her eyes. Sadness and maybe a tiny bit of triumph. 

“Give me one second,” Harry said, going through all of his memories. 

He remembered that the last time he performed a Patronus, during his O.W.L. exam. He had focused on the joy of showing Umbridge he would ace that test. 

_“Expecto Patronum.”_

Harry managed to make a thin wispy shield of light in front of him.

“I don’t understand,” Harry sat down. “I’ve never had problems with it before.”

“Maybe if we wait a little while...” Tonks began. “I’m sure lots of wizards have this problem.”

“No,” Harry said firmly. “Give me a second, I just need to find another memory, something solid. It can’t all be gloom and sadness in here.” He pointed to his heart.

Harry went through one memory after another. As soon as he felt even the slightest pang of guilt or sadness in his chest, he would pick a new one. He didn’t know for how long he had been standing there. 

_Why this one?_ He asked himself.

He was remembering the first time he had awoken from a nightmare in the Carnaby Street flat. The whole scene of him firing off spells against Tonks, how he had almost hurt her. He remembered the safety and the calm he felt when he hugged her. He felt happy in _that_ moment. It was mixed with sadness and fear, but there was no guilt at that time.

 _“Expecto Patronum,_ ” Harry whispered softly, remembering the happiness of being in Tonks’s arms. 

A majestic lion sprung out of his wand and prowled on the floor, shaking its mane. Harry was staring at it in shock.

“ _Leo_?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the reasons I write fan fiction, other than to explore characters and themes that I find interesting, is to explore aspects of the canon world that I think are under-developed in the canon text.
> 
> How exactly do the magical portraits work? How are they different from magical photographs? What is the experience like for those who live on in paint? Or those who loved them?
> 
> I take responsibility for any errors in the mechanism of magical portraiture. Waske's original text focused more on the characterization of Sirius, and the digressions into how Sirius sees his "life" now are largely mine.


	14. Madam Malkin’s Meltdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan learns about Leo and Harry's previous troubles.
> 
> Harry goes shopping in Diagon Alley, along with his flatmates and friends.
> 
> Narcissa and Draco make an apperance.
> 
> The Weasley twins' shop is visited and the Weasley kids have... interactions.
> 
> Molly and Amelia bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been WAY too long, but this chapter needed a lot of revision to meet the site standards, and a lot of small edits to match with other changes to previous and following chapters.
> 
> I have dropped out of grad school and continue to teach, mostly online but with just enough face-to-face students to fuel my anxiety and put me into preventative quarantine three times so far this year.
> 
> I continue to work on this story and other stories from the series. I will announce the next remediated work after I complete this one is finally finished and posted for everyone.
> 
> Thank you.  
> Be safe, do good, be well.

**Chapter 14**. **Madam Malkin’s Meltdown**

Harry stared at the lion in front of him. He was completely shocked.

“This is not right,” Harry muttered. “My Patronus is always a stag, like my dad’s.”

“Wait, what?” Tonks asked.

“Yeah,” Harry scratched his head. “I’m surprised too.”

“What did you call him?” Tonks asked.

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “It’s nothing. I think I need to speak with Sirius.”

“Okay,” Tonks nodded, as she followed him down the stairs.

Harry walked into the kitchen and found Sirius’s portrait hanging on the wall, looking bored. 

“Sirius,” Harry called out.

“What is it?” 

_“Expecto Patronum,_ ” Harry pointed his wand to the middle of the kitchen. His lion prowled around the kitchen table. “Explain this.”

“Wait, what?!” Sirius looked shocked.

“I know,” Harry said. “What’s happening?” 

“Something drastically must have changed for you,” Sirius said. “I’ve heard of people whose Patronus changed, but this drastically? A hunter, a killer, a sigil of Gryffindor… It’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “It feels like Leo, but he has been gone since…”

“Since what?” Sirius asked seriously. “What am I missing?”

Harry looked back to Tonks’s confused face, then he told Sirius the truth.

“Since Leo tried to kill us,” Harry said solemnly. 

“He did _what?”_ Sirius shouted from the painting.

“What is going on?” Tonks asked, confused.

“Harry’s mind is… was... fractured into two identities,” Sirius said. “In addition to Harry, there was Leo, the other. Most of the time it was Harry, but Leo would take control if he had to, to protect Harry.”

Tonks paled at the revelation.

“Leo is gone, or so I thought,” Harry said looking at the vivid lion lying on the floor. He hadn’t made it go away yet. “I’m sorry, Tonks. You probably want to sit down for this.”

Tonks stumbled over to the table, looking hungry for answers.

“I didn’t tell you this before,” Harry said. “Leo appeared when I was a kid, it happened when _that man_ tried to beat me to death. Leo appeared and used magic to make him stop. He was always there in the back of my mind. He would come out if I was in danger to my life or if I couldn’t handle the pressure. He was out a lot more last year because of Umbridge. He seemed to particularly hate that woman.”

Tonks nodded as she listened to the story.

“Harry was acting oddly at the beginning of the last school year,” Sirius took over. “Minerva and Hermione were worried, so I went to Hogwarts. That’s when I met him. Leo seemed a good enough sort, he was just—”

“—ruthless?” Harry smiled. “He didn’t have any problem hurting others if it kept me safe. He would probably have killed if I had let him.”

Tonks looked sick as Harry talked.

“Well, you never did,” Sirius pointed out.

“It was close with Bellatrix,” Harry said coldly. “I finally gave in to temptation. She probably wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for Hermione.”

“I’m glad you didn’t do it, son,” Sirius said. “It changes people.”

“I know,” Harry said. “Well, after that night, I was hurting, mentally, physically... Dumbledore wanted to talk about the prophecy, I couldn’t do it, so I let Leo take over. It was me at St. Mungo’s again, or so I thought. But the shock from that night was so much, I just retreated again when we got home. Leo took over for the last time in the bath. He said he could stop the pain, that he’d protect me once and for all.”

“And I found you in there,” Tonks rasped hoarsely.

“Harry tried to kill himself?!” Susan’s voice came from the door to the kitchen. 

“Oh shit,” Harry groaned. “Could someone go wake up Auntie? I think this story needs the whole flat.”

Amelia was looking grumpy when she joined them in the kitchen. Harry and Tonks had made tea for everyone, finding some calming in the routine chore. 

“Cast your Patronus,” Sirius said. 

Harry cast it once more and the conversation repeated itself for the remaining participants.

“You are saying Leo is gone?” Amelia frowned. “How can you be sure?”

“Completely,” Harry said. “There is nothing of him left in my mind, not since that night in the bath. There is only me.”

Susan was crying silently at the table. Tonks was clutching her mug tightly in her hand, her face inscrutable. Amelia was frowning and in deep thought, but she was taking the news relatively well.

“Well there is no use obsessing too much about it,” Amelia said. “You seem to be doing well enough without him, perhaps better. Your Patronus has changed, but it will still work as a protection against dementors.” 

“I guess,” Harry said, looking rather calm. “I was just surprised.”

“That is understandable,” Amelia smiled. “It is a rather majestic Patronus though.” 

“Is that all we are going to say about this?” Susan cried out.

“Yes,” Amelia shot her down. “There wasn’t a plot to keep this from you, but everyone deserves to have some amount of privacy. Harry is obviously feeling better, and he won’t try something like that again. I know it is a shock, Susan, but this shouldn’t change how we look at him, how we feel about him. It does explain why Harry wasn’t allowed to bring his wand into the bathroom for most of the summer. We took precautions, as he slowly got better.”

Harry smiled bitterly at that.

“Please don’t treat me differently,” Harry said. “I am still the same me.” 

Susan sent a concerned and rueful glare towards him. 

“Never going to do something like that again?” she asked.

“Promise,” Harry crossed his heart. 

“Good,” Susan said. “I am not raising both Castoria and Cassiopeia on my own.” 

“Is that what you were worried about?” Harry chuckled. 

“No, you idiot,” Susan said and punched his shoulder.

“Ouch,” Harry rubbed the spot she hit. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It was,” Susan huffed, then she hugged him tightly. “You’re family. What would any of us do without each other?” 

“You’re family, too,” Harry said. “Now enough of the depressing topics, I have a new lion Patronus, and Tonks managed to do her own Patronus, it’s a—”

“—Puma!” Tonks tried to interrupt.

“—Cougar!” Harry finished. 

Amelia nearly spat out her tea, and Sirius was shaking with suppressed laughter in his frame, dramatically wiping away invisible tears from his face.

“That’s gold!” He managed to squeeze out between laughing fits. “Oh, cousin!”

Tonks’s face was completely red as she laid her head on the table. “All of you can shut it,” she mumbled.

“I’m missing the joke, aren’t I? What is it?” Susan asked innocently.

“Erm …” Amelia groaned. 

“A ‘cougar’ is also a term for…” Sirius began mischievously.

“Don’t you dare,” Tonks spat out from her position at the table.

 _“Silencio_ ,” Amelia said pointing her wand towards the painting. Sirius was rolling about the lower frame, laughing silently. “Dear, there is no need to corrupt Susan like that.”

Susan pouted. “What? What’s it a term for?”

“It’s a Muggle thing,” Harry smiled. 

“Harry, I think you and I need to move around a bit,” Tonks smiled with her teeth looking remarkably like fangs for a second. “Practice room.”

Harry groaned but was soon upstairs to face Tonks, who seemed anything but playful. She had the Black family intensity for a change, and it showed in her duelling.

Harry was bruised and beaten by the time Tonks was done with him, and she had a satisfied smile on her face. 

“Ah, that does it,” she said, her playfulness seemingly restored.

“You really did not hold back,” Harry grimaced as he touched the different bruises appearing on his body. 

“You deserved it,” Tonks sent him a charming smile, which looked playful and demanding at the same time.

“Remind me to never piss you off.”

“You do that on a daily basis,” Tonks said sagely. “I am just the better person and don’t beat you up for it every day.”

Harry ruffled his hair in exasperation. He usually won against Tonks, but right now he felt like a little kid, who got beaten up by an adult.

“How come I never lost this hard before?” Harry said. “Have you always held back on me?”

“Well, this time it was a punishment,” Tonks smiled as she walked down the stairs.

Harry firmly averted his eyes and looked towards a corner. 

“Did I get rusty?” he murmured to himself as he walked down the stairs.

Time slowly passed as Harry waited for the day to come where he would be allowed to go to Diagon Alley to pick up his new school books. It felt like forever before Saturday arrived. Molly would take care of the twins, while Amelia, Tonks, Lupin, and Arthur would join the four of them to go shopping. Harry felt conflicted about seeing Ron since his conversation with Sirius. He couldn’t help himself, he was annoyed at Ron for replacing him. 

Lupin was brought by Tonks, while the rest of the Weasley’s floo’ed into the flat.

Ginny bolted towards Susan as soon as she left the fireplace. Harry smiled, but Mrs. Weasley and Ron were frowning a little at the intimate hug. Amelia just shook her head looking at the two. 

“Hey Ron,” Harry said. 

“Hi,” Ron grinned and pulled Harry into a hug. 

“Well, shall we?” Amelia asked as she led them through the front door.

“Uhm…” Ginny hesitated. “Could I maybe borrow an outfit from Tonks?” 

Susan and Tonks smiled widely at the redhead's suggestion. 

“It won’t take long,” Ginny promised.

Amelia rubbed her forehead but ultimately nodded.

“Harry, you can go show off the rest of the flat to our guests,” Amelia said. “Molly, this way, the twins are sleeping right now.”

“Moony is that you?” Sirius’s portrait in the kitchen shouted.

“Padfoot?!” Lupin looked flustered. 

“In here,” Sirius's voice flowed out from the kitchen. 

Lupin soon found himself face to face with a painting of his best friend and they were soon intimately talking about the fact that Sirius had become a father.

“That’s new,” Mr. Weasley commented.

“Apparently it was at Grimmauld Place all this time,” Harry shrugged. “It’s nice being able to talk to him, even if it is only a painting. This way.”

Mr. Weasley found the changes to the flat completely fascinating. He was openly surprised when he saw that it wasn’t only a two-story flat, but it actually had a whole third floor on top of it. 

“This here is where I’ve been training all summer,” Harry said. “Auntie and Tonks have helped me a lot.” 

“Impressive,” Mr. Weasley admitted. “What’s behind those doors?” 

“Oh, that’s just a roof terrace, you can look down into the street from it,” Harry said.

“Fascinating,” Mr. Weasley ran towards the glass doors and stepped onto the wooden floor. He was staring at the muggles walking on the street. “This is incredible, look, that’s a bicycle.” 

Harry had a fondness for Mr. Weasley’s interest in anything muggle related.

“I think they should be done soon,” Harry said. 

When they walked downstairs, the girls came out of Tonks’s room and Ginny was wearing a somewhat punk outfit.

“Ginny!” Ron exclaimed. 

“Get over yourself, Ronald,” Ginny mocked him. “I look better in this than I do in my own clothes.”

Harry and Mr. Weasley wisely didn’t comment. Harry had seen the outfit before, and Mr. Weasley knew better than to try and control his daughter in any way.

The group went downstairs once more and Ginny smartly hid from her mother’s gaze and walked out the front door to wait there. She was already frustrated that she couldn’t openly kiss Susan today, she did not need an argument with her mother. 

Harry distinctly heard her mutter a brief thanks towards the two babies, which were more than enough to occupy Mrs. Weasley’s full attention. 

Mr. Weasley had been most fascinated with taking the underground.

“So, this is how they work,” he exclaimed as Harry helped him through the ticket gate. “They really are ingenious. They find solutions for so many things without magic.”

“Oi,” Tonks said. “We are in public.”

“Right,” Mr. Weasley was flustered. “I know, I know. Still, it is fascinating.”

Harry smiled looking at the man, most Muggles wouldn’t have anything positive to say about the Underground, but he wasn’t going to spoil Mr. Weasley’s mood.

“Dad is still mental,” Ron said. 

“How did you do in your O.W.L.s?” Harry asked. 

“Pretty good,” Ron said. “I got seven, that’s more than Fred and George combined.” 

“Good job,” Harry said genuinely. “Your Mum must have been ecstatic.” 

“Yeah,” Ron smiled proudly. 

“Do you know how Hermione did?” Harry asked, trying to make it sound off-handed. 

“Don’t know,” Ron answered. “She has to take the exams all over during August. I think they start next week.”

Harry felt a pang of guilt in his stomach.

“How far did she get with her studies?” Harry asked.

“I think she managed to get through up to fifth year,” Ron said. “But honestly I have no idea how well she is going to do.”

Harry had a brooding expression on his face. 

“Look, mate,” Ron said. “I know, it sucks, but she is loads better now than she was at the beginning of summer. She is almost back to being herself.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes lit up.

“She still doesn’t remember anyone, exactly. She knows a lot about us, but it’s like she read about us in a book.”

“Oh,” Harry said and didn’t continue the conversation. He just focused on his day ahead.

Harry spent the rest of the trip answering Ron’s questions with either a grunt or another indistinctive sound. He was trapped in his own head. He didn’t even notice that they had arrived at their destination and were standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron. 

Harry got jolted out of his thoughts by feeling something soft on each of his arms.

“Watch out,” Susan said from his left side. “You are going to run into a lamppost like this.”

“Where is your head at Harry?” Ginny asked from his right side.

“It’s nothing,” Harry wrestled his arms free of their grasp. “I was just thinking about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Ginny asked. 

“It’s nothing,” Harry said firmly. 

“Suit yourself,” Susan shrugged as they were led in through the cauldron. 

Harry spotted Mr. Weasley nod towards Tom the bartender, but they didn’t stay for even a second before they were standing in Diagon Alley. 

Harry observed a noticeable difference in the street. It felt desolated. Harry noticed several shops had closed down. 

“What happened to Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour?” Harry asked.

“He was dragged off,” Lupin muttered grimly. “Harry, you are with me. We will go to Gringotts. Bill is waiting there—he helped withdraw some money from your vault.”

Harry nodded. He didn’t mind going with Lupin. 

“How was your summer?” Lupin asked as they walked off from the rest of the group. 

“So-so,” Harry replied indifferently. 

“I guess that was all we could hope for,” Lupin smiled. “How are you holding up?” 

“Better than expected,” Harry said. 

They quickly hastened towards the stairs of Gringotts and walked through the doors. They were shown towards the curse breakers' department and found Bill.

“Here you are,” Bill handed Harry a bag of Galleons.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered. He was about to turn around when he was spotted by a goblin.

“If it isn’t the famous Harry Potter,” the goblin said.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said confused. “I don’t think I know you.”

“Indeed, you don’t,” Gnarlock Bonegnasher said. “Thordrum has spoken a lot about you.” 

“Ah,” Harry recalled the goblin from earlier in the summer. “He is indeed a brilliant craftsman—is he still here? I’d like to pay my respects.” 

“He returned to the Nation,” Gnarlock said. “My name is Gnarlock Bonegnasher. I am the account manager for Madam Black.”

Harry nodded. 

“Is there anything you need of me, Mr. Bonegnasher?” Harry asked. 

“No,” Gnarlock said. “Just my own personal curiosity; give my regards to Madam Black.”

“I will,” Harry nodded. “Have a good day.”

“You as well,” Gnarlock said. _A wizard, paying respects?_ he thought, concealing his surprise.

Harry had an odd feeling about the way Gnarlock was looking at him. He didn’t want to stay long. He said a quick goodbye to Bill before he headed towards the exit of the bank.

He only began relaxing, when he felt the sun on his face once more. 

“I felt like he was going to eat me alive,” Harry shivered. 

“Goblins do tend to have that effect on people,” Lupin smiled. 

“Lupin, my Patronus changed,” Harry said quietly.

“It did _what?_ ” Lupin asked.

“It’s a lion now,” Harry said. “Do you know why it would have done that?”

“Sometimes a Patronus changes if people experience something significant,” Lupin thought out loud. “The Patronus represents that which is hidden, unknown but necessary within the personality and the Patronus is the awakened secret self that lies dormant until needed, but which must now be brought to light. That’s the current theory, anyway.”

“So I am like a lion?” Harry asked. 

“I guess, you are,” Lupin smiled. “Not a bad second Patronus if you ask me. What changed?”

“I guess I just wanted to protect the people around me,” Harry said. “And I don’t mind being ruthless if it makes the people I consider family safe.”

Lupin sent him a worrying gaze.

“As long as you don’t cross the line, you will be fine,” he said.

“I can’t promise that,” Harry said. “If it keeps the people around me safe then I don’t mind dirtying my own hands. Of course, that is the last option.”

Lupin didn’t say anything more, and they continued their shopping in absolute silence. Harry, needing new school robes, found himself in front of Madam Malkin’s. He thought fondly for a moment, recalling a previous visit with Hermione. Still wrapped in the fuzzy remembrance of that distant day, he did not, at first, recognize the voice which greeted him as he entered the shop.

“Stop pestering me, Mother. I can buy my own robes, you know. I’m not a child.”

 _Bollocks,_ Harry thought, _I ought to recognize that tosser anywhere._

“The Malfoys,” Harry said quietly to Lupin. “You best wait outside, I think.”

Lupin nodded and went outside, keeping a watchful eye on both the Alley and on the shop entrance.

Madam Malkin, the ancient witch who had run the shop from time out of mind, came into view, leading a young man with strikingly pale blond hair towards a full-length mirror.

“Quite right, young Master Malfoy,” she said soothingly as she eyed the hem of his fine green and black robes, adorned with pins and marked with chalk in preparation for tailoring. “No one is supposed to be out alone, not with The Troubles.”

“Ouch!” Draco Malfoy pulled away in irritation. “Mind my wrist!”

Malfoy looked over his shoulder in the reflection and spotted Harry. His light grey eyes narrowed.

“We best watch our behavior, Mother,” Malfoy said loudly, “it seems the Headmaster’s Favorite has arrived.”

“Malfoy,” Harry said politely, but there was a snarky undertone to his voice. “Mrs. Malfoy.” 

Narcissa Malfoy came out, looking rather apprehensive at standing in front of the boy that the Dark Lord wanted to kill the most. 

“Where is your usual sidekick?” Malfoy sneered. “I don’t see the mudblood glued to your hip.”

Harry felt anger pulsating in his body, but he had learned to control his emotions. 

“You’d think you would have learned to control that mouth of yours, Draco, with your father staring at the inside of a cell in Azkaban.” Harry didn’t hide his irritation as well as he would have liked.

Malfoy had drawn his wand and looked ready to fight.

“Don’t think you’re safe out here in the world, Boy Who Lived,” Malfoy rasped. 

“That’s ‘The Chosen One’ to you,” Harry said as he slid his own wand into his hand.

“ _Children_ ,” Narcissa said sharply, “we would be smart to not invite trouble.”

Harry shrugged, his wand was still in his hand, ready for anything. 

“That goes for you, too, Mr. Potter,” Narcissa continued, eyeing his wand hand narrowly. “I can assure you, should you and my son have difficulties this coming term, that I will be certain it is the last time.”

“Is that right, Mrs. Malfoy? Is that your opinion, or your husband’s? Or maybe your Master?”

Her lips tightened into a thin line, and he saw her sister Bellatrix in her eyes.

“Your luck and your friends have made you feel invincible, untouchable.” Narcissa smiled a cold and terrifying smile. “You’re little girlfriend proved the error of that thinking, Mr. Potter.”

Harry flushed. “I see. And how is your sister’s arm? Has it gotten fixed properly, or is the bone still sticking out of it sideways, as I left her? I don’t mind showing you personally if the opportunity should arise. What’s the worst that can happen? You end up in a double cell with your husband?” 

Malfoy made an angry movement towards Harry but stumbled over his unhemmed robe. “Don’t you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!” Malfoy snarled.

Harry sent him a pitying gaze.

“Draco,” said Narcissa placatingly, “Your father and my sister shall have their days of glory yet. I am not sure the same could be said for young Mr. Potter. I fear his greatest achievements lie behind him.”

Madam Malkin apparently decided that proceeding as though this was any other day was her best option, and she began to tug and fuss at Draco’s sleeve. She must have poked him with another pin, as he drew his hand back as if to slap her away.

“Draco!” Narcissa’s sharp tone pulled her son up short. “Madam, we do not wish to patronize your shop today after all. The quality of your other clients does not reflect well upon you, nor your trade. Good day.”

Draco shrugged out of his robes, letting them fall to the floor.

“But, surely, my Lady Malfoy—” Madam Malkin began, only to be cut off by Narcissa.

“I said ‘Good day.’ Do stay safe, Potter.” She opened the door for her son. “It would be a terrible shame if something were to happen to you.”

And with that, the pair of them strode out of the shop, Malfoy taking care to bang as hard as he could into Harry on the way out. It didn’t work for him, as Harry just stood unfazed and Malfoy had to give way. 

Madam Malkin was distracted all through the fitting of Harry’s new robes, and when she finally bowed him out of the shop it was with an air of being glad to see the back of him.

“Everything alright?” Lupin asked with a frown. “I saw the Malfoys storming out.”

“It was delightful,” Harry said sourly, but then he added softly, “I think Draco has been tortured since I last saw him.”

“How do you know?” Lupin asked. 

“Trust me, I know the look.”

“I see,” Lupin said, not extending the conversation further.

Soon, the two of them found themselves in Flourish and Blotts. 

“I need _Charms, Potions, Defence, Transfiguration, Runes and Herbology,_ ” Harry listed off to Lupin. 

“No Arithmancy? Taking an easy load this term?” Lupin asked only half-joking. 

“Arithmancy, too,” Harry said. “But it seems like there is no new book for this year.”

“Impressive,” Lupin nodded. “Why the heavy load?”

“I want to be an Auror,” Harry said.

“I see,” Lupin nodded. “Well, those shouldn’t be hard to find.”

They quickly gathered all of the books and Harry paid for them. He then got a refill on his potions ingredients and soon he found the rest of the group standing in front of the twins’ shop.

The shop stood out against the almost grim facades of the surrounding stores by being brightly coloured and vibrant. Display windows were filled with rotating stands of products and flashing messages, all clamouring for the eyes of passers-by. And the strategy was clearly working: there were small crowds around each display, a short queue of customers waiting to enter the shop, and even ordinary wizards and witches walking past found themselves craning their necks and looking back over their shoulders. 

A poster with scrolling messages caught Harry’s attention, making him pull up short with Lupin as they approached.

FALLEN FOR A QUIDDITCH-PLAYING WITCH?

NOTHING SAYS I LOVE YOU

LIKE OUR NEW MARZIPAN SNITCH

IT DODGES! IT DARTS!

IT CAPTURES THEIR HEARTS

WARNING:

MAY CAUSE SPONTANEOUS SNOGGING!

Harry chuckled. He heard a weak sort of moan beside him and looked around to see Mr. Weasley gazing, dumbfounded at the poster. His lips moved silently, mouthing the phrase “spontaneous snogging.”

“Perhaps for the best their mother hasn’t seen this,” Mr. Weasley intoned, arching an eyebrow at Harry and Ron, who also been caught short by the advert. 

“What if your witch isn’t into Quidditch?” Ron wondered. “You reckon they might—erm, never mind.”

Harry spotted Tonks, face pressed against the window, eyeing another selection of products and laughing. Her hair was lighting up in all sorts of different colours and Harry was struck again by how musical her laugh was, so at odds with her self-deprecating sense of humor.

The twins’ shop was everything Harry might have expected. The Wizarding Wheezes he remembered from school, alongside dozens of new products, all with the mad imprint of George and Fred’s unique take on life. Harry felt his spirits lifting just watching throngs of eager witches and wizards finding their way through the assorted wares. There were wizarding chess sets, the pawns glumly glowering at patrons as they passed by. Another aisle held bewitched word games, from Hang Man and Word Search to something called Fairy Jumble, there were games with enchanted letter tiles, bewitched hangmen mannequins, and dancing quills. At the end of the aisle, Harry spotted a familiar flash of bubblegum pink hair. He edged closer and found Tonks reading aloud from the text of an advert.

“ _Daydream Charms…”_

“Huh. 'With one simple spell, our guaranteed Daydream Charm allows the lucky wizard or witch to enjoy a half-hour of blissful daydreams, all while presenting a boring (and bored!) face to the world. May cause mouth-breathing and elevated sweatiness. Only for sale to those of age. Not for sale to under-sixteens.’ You know,” said Tonks, looking up at Harry, “That’s really extraordinary magic!”

“For that, Tonks,” said a voice behind them, “you can have one for free.”

“Fred! Good to see you,” Tonks said with a smile. “Now I just need the right dream, eh?”

Harry found himself blushing and quickly reached out to shake Fred’s hand, gruffly muttering something under his breath.

“How are you, Fred?” They shook hands.

“Things are good, actually,” Fred said. “Come on, Harry, I’ll give you the five-knut tour.”

Harry left Tonks, who was still flipping the box over and over in her hand, and followed Fred toward the back of the shop, where he saw a stand of card and rope tricks, apparently for those wizards who enjoyed Muggle culture. Fred’s twin emerged from the workroom, patting at some ashes smoldering on his emerald waistcoat.

“Harry, old man! Come to see what we’ve got going today in our research program.”

George ushered Harry into the less chaotic and more serious back room. The general air was serious, almost reverent, with everything in its place and orderly, far from the chaotic air the twins naturally projected. 

The twins explained to Harry how their line of personal shield products, originally designed to protect against unwanted pranks and minor hexes, had become all the rage since the beginning of what people had started calling “This Recent Nastiness,“ or even just “The Troubles.” 

Verity, an attractive young witch with short blonde hair coughed delicately, standing in the doorway to the rest of the shop. 

“We have a customer with a cauldron questions, Misters Weasley,” she said. 

“No rest for the wicked, eh?” kidded George promptly. “Don’t be a stranger, Harry.”

Back on the shop floor proper, Harry and the twins found a collection of witches, including Ginny, Susan, and Tonks, examining a line of products labeled as belonging to the “Wonder Witch” line. The packaging featured a gagging array of pink and lavender hues, but the girls seemed captivated. Susan appeared skeptical, but Ginny was blushing furiously as she examined some of the packages.

“Blemish-removers, everlasting lip gloss, the best love potions available without a ministry certificate…” George declared expansively, while Fred winked broadly over his shoulder.

“Love potions,” Susan snorted dismissively, eyebrow raised. “Seriously? My Auntie says they’re all sugar water and wishful thinking.”

“Your Auntie’s shopping in the wrong shop,” Fred said with wounded pride. “Effective for at least twenty-four hours, more or less based on the heft of the boy in question.”

“And the prettiness of the witch?” Susan asked, more playfully now than hostile, as she examined a vial.

“I see you’ve found the disclaimers,” George admitted cheerfully. “Nothing in life is certain. Care to have a go?”

Susan pursed her lips. “I think I do as well with boys as I care to, thank you.”

Ginny snorted and turned away to hide her face.

“And not for sale to our sister, so don’t get any ideas, Ginny,” Fred added sternly. “We hear you already are doing—“

“—just fine in the boys department,” George finished, as the two crossed their arms in unison as their sister turned back to them defiantly.

“And what exactly are you hearing, and from whom?” Ginny’s expression was so close to her mother’s angry inquisition that Harry involuntarily took a step back himself.

“Michael Corner, Dean Thomas? Two or three other boys?” Fred asked, somewhat less certainly.

“I am not dating Dean Thomas or any boy.” She examined a cage of miniature puffskeins. “These are adorable. I’ll take one of these—what are they called? Pygmy Puffs?—free in exchange for your slanderous allegations. And another for my girlfriend Susan if she wants one.”

“No thank you, Ginny, but it’s sweet of you to ask.” Susan seemed slightly stunned at Ginny’s sudden turn, but her eyes were shining with pride as she watched her lover easily handle her two mercurial brothers.

“Girlfriend?” Fred asked.

“As in _a girl_ —”George added before Ginny leaned over and gave Susan a quick peck on the cheek, causing both twins to fall silent.

Fred and George looked solemnly at each other in rapid silent communication.

“You’ve got it, Ginny.” They chorused.

“And Ron is a right prat,” Fred muttered.

“Well that’s what you get for listening to him,” Ginny chastised. “Are you losing your touch? Taking Ron’s word for gossip, about me? He must have been laughing his arse off.”

“Is someone taking my name in vain?” Ron asked, joining the group. He had an armful of products, including rather a lot of fireworks, in his arms.

“You’re banned,” George said immediately.

“Six months, no sales,” Fred added firmly. “And apologize to Ginny.”

“That’s okay,” Susan said, recovering from the change in her girlfriend’s public reserve. “We’ll take our own revenge on Ron at the time and place of Ginny’s choosing.”

Ron, his face fallen, looked from the twins to the two girls and realized that he had walked into a buzzsaw. He took the armload of merchandise and dropped it in a barrel of Edible Owls (“A Secret Message inside every bird!”).

“Well, bugger you lot,” grumbled Ron, flashing a rude gesture over his shoulder as he huffed with not-entirely-genuine high dudgeon towards the shop exit. Unfortunately, his gesture was clearly visible to Amelia Bones, who was standing in the doorway.

“I would prefer it, Mr. Weasley, if you didn’t show such vulgar gestures in front of my niece.”

Ron was immediately embarrassed nodded sheepishly. 

“Did you get everything you needed?” Amelia asked, turning to Susan and Ginny.

Harry didn’t want to get engaged in any further friction between Ginny and the twins, or his Aunt Amelia and Ron. He looked out of the window trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. Harry spotted Draco moving briskly past the storefront. 

_He managed to slip away from his mother,_ Harry thought to himself. _Should I go after him? No, that would be foolish. It could be a trap. Though I should talk to Auntie and Tonks about it._

Harry looked back to see Susan debating with herself about something. He walked over to Amelia.

“I think Susan wants to get Ginny a few things for her new Pygmy Puff,” Harry whispered. “Have you told her about her inheritance from Sirius?”

Amelia shook her head before she walked over to Susan and discretely handed her a couple of galleons while whispering in her ear. 

Harry grabbed Fred and George, while Ron standing awkwardly by the exit, defiantly not leaving but ready to step out if approached.

They stuck their heads together.

“Look,” Harry said. “I knew about Ginny, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Ginny has been terrified of telling the family because she didn’t know how you guys would react. She doesn’t want to lose her family, so she’s been keeping it secret for over a year. They are happy together, so don’t fuck this up for her.”

Fred and George shared a look before they looked slightly offended at Harry.

“How could you even think we wouldn’t support her?” Fred asked, a little irritated.

“I don’t think there is a problem with you two, your dad, Bill, or Charlie,” Harry said. “And no one cares what Percy might think. It’s more your mum and Ron. Look, your mum is a nice woman, but she has this fantasy about how Ginny is supposed to live her life, and Ron is … well … a little _too_ influenced by your mother’s traditional thinking, at least enough that he agrees with her on most things. It’s okay if it is other witches, but if it’s Ginny? You heard all these stories about her. He might have been more than half serious with all those relationship stories- it's how he still sees her.”

George nodded solemnly. 

“I’m just asking you to not burst out about it in front of everyone, and make sure she understands that you still love her,” Harry said. “We good?”

“Yeah, thanks. We guess we see why she might worry.”

“Good,” Harry nodded as he walked back to the group, which was slowly getting ready to leave. 

The others had gotten their shopping done in their own time. Ginny was holding a little cage with a Pygmy Puff and sending a subdued but loving gaze towards Susan. Mr. Weasley was holding a Magic Muggle Trick in his hands. Tonks was holding her free Daydream as well as some other WonderWitch Products. Harry quickly grabbed some of the products the twins had made Ron put back. They could serve as a Christmas present for him. Lupin had stood guard by the door the whole time.

“We should head back soon,” Amelia said loudly enough for everyone to hear. 

There was a general agreement and soon Harry found himself getting apparated back by Tonks to their living room.

“How were the twins?” Amelia asked concernedly towards Molly, who was sitting and drinking a cup of tea with Sirius’s painting.

“They were delightful,” Molly said. “They just fell asleep not long ago.”

“We got to see _your_ twins, by the way. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to look after the girls,” Amelia said with a smile.

“Did you get everything?” Molly said towards Arthur. She turned quickly to Ginny. “What _are_ you wearing? And what is _that_?”

Mrs. Weasley had spotted Ginny’s outfit and the Pygmy Puff in her arms.

“I borrowed it from Tonks,” Ginny said fiercely. “And this is my Pygmy Puff.” 

“I see,” Mrs. Weasley looked like she was ready to start an argument, but she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Molly,” Amelia said. “It is not that bad of an outfit– it’s rather modest compared to some of the dresses I have seen all the younger people wearing. I know what you think, I had my own reservations, but after I started living with Harry and Tonks I began to understand that Magical Society fashions look incomparably odd and outdated to the Muggles. Ginny might be wearing something you don’t approve of, but her outfit easily blends into the Muggles safely.” 

Harry had never seen Mrs. Weasley accept something that easily before. If he had been wearing a hat, he would have taken it off for Amelia’s ability to make everyone take a second more to think.

“I understand,” Molly said, “I suppose for Muggle fashion, it must be lovely.” 

Harry spotted Ginny and Susan looking surprised at each other. Mr. Weasley sent his wife a wide smile, and Ron was just looking at Amelia in something close to awe. 

“I guess, I should get dinner started,” Harry said casually. “Lupin, Mr. Weasley, could you help with setting up a dinner table for nine people and a portrait?”

The rest of August passed without much happening. Carnaby Street was a lot less insular than usual. Mrs. Weasley would regularly come over to be near the twins, and she and Amelia were developing a surprising but strong friendship. Ron would sometimes hang out with Harry. Ginny would get permission to come with her mother on some days, much to Susan’s delight. 

One of the days Ginny had come over, she had pulled Harry aside with Susan and thanked him for talking to her brothers. Apparently, they had been incredibly supportive and wanted to visit Susan and Harry to have fun together. They had gotten permission from Amelia and six people, Tonks included, went out for the second time that summer to the cinema, which had been a fantastic time as Fred and George were always good company. 

Harry woke up on the first of September feeling nervous and excited at the same time.


	15. Interlude: Walid Aibnatih

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione prepares to return to Hogwarts, with mixed feelings from her parents but made somewhat easier by the support of her friend, Ronald Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note from ReverendKilljoy:
> 
> A tip of the authorial cap to screenwriter Debora Cahn for her work on “The West Wing” which inspired a passage in this chapter. 
> 
> 15 chapters down, about 30 to go.

**Chapter 15** **Interlude: Walid Aibnatih**

John Granger stood in the crowded station, his hands deep in his pockets, his shoulders raised defensively. Everything about his body language said “danger,” and “do not approach.”

A few feet away, his wife Jean was going over last-minute details with their daughter and her escort for her trip, Ron Weasley. At least _there_ was someone he could count on, John thought, to actually look out for his daughter. This whole enterprise was madness. He knew it in his bones, but somehow they had moved from “let’s wait and see,” to “let’s have a plan just in case,” to today, where suddenly it seemed “this isn’t the time to bring this up, John.”

Jean and Hermione embraced. Despite all she had been through at the hospital, and far too briefly at home with her parents, Hermione still hugged her mother more like the child she had been than the young woman she had briefly become—and still appeared on the surface to be.

“Now, Hermione,” her mother said, fussing, “You have your book-bag and your notes? You have the journal Healer Lewis asked you to keep? Oh, and your floss?”

“Yes, mother, yes.” Hermione was both chafing at being babied and comforted that her mother was with her. It was one thing to demand to return to her schooling, but quite another to board a magical train to be swept away to an enchanted castle to practice real, honest to goodness witchcraft. The reality seemed to be overtaking her preconceptions, but she knew that if she showed any hesitation now, her father would have her on the next tube train on the Northern Line back to Hampstead before she could whistle.

“I’m so proud of you, Hermione,” her mother said, tearing up yet again. “You must be so frightened, and so determined. I’m proud of you for doing this but I would hold you in my arms and never let you go anywhere ever again if I had the slightest chance.”

“I know, Mum,” Hermione said, then added in a hushed voice, “I’m ever so glad you’re here. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Well, you have Ronald.” Her mother smiled a bit, and added teasingly, “You best be careful. He seems awfully committed to your friendship. I don’t think your father is ready for another boyfriend quite so soon.”

Hermione paled and stole a quick glance at where Ronald and her father stood quietly, side by side, a short way apart from them.

“Mum! Stop it. He’s just a friend, a very good friend.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just very clear that he worries about you. You should have heard him, talking to us about your care at St. Mungo’s. He was such a very serious young man, but clearly a nice fellow.” Jean glanced at the boy, and admitted, “Even your father liked him, rather grudgingly as you might imagine.”

Hermione was blushing, and she quickly changed the subject back to her plans for staying in touch and following all of her Healer’s admonitions about gentle recovery.

While Jean and Hermione dabbed at tears and made their goodbyes, Ron approached John, stopping a respectful distance away before John nodded him closer.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say at this point to change her mind,” Granger said gruffly.

“I doubt it, sir,” Ron said, turning to look at the two women himself. “She seems pretty set on recovering what’s been taken. It’s her way of hitting back, I think, refusing to let _him_ win.”

“And she still plans on meeting Potter.” It was not a question. “I still think that’s a mistake.”

“She knows you do,” Ron said honestly, surprising John briefly. He supposed he’d done a terrible job of hiding his thoughts on the matter, after all.

“But she won’t be alone.” Ron was looking at Hermione, a determined look on his face, and a seriousness John couldn’t remember from their first meeting. This thing had changed them all. Maybe some good might come of it somehow.

“I’m trusting you, Ron.” John’s voice lost some of its rough edge, and the boy could clearly hear the worry behind his words, the powerlessness that John felt when dealing in any way with this other world he found himself surrendering his daughter to once more.

“A few years ago, my family took a trip to Egypt. It was a prize, from our paper, quite a big deal for us.” Ron’s eyes stayed on Hermione and Jean. “All of my brothers, my mum and dad, and my little sister, Ginny. Everywhere we went, they were very friendly, but a bit, I don’t know, foreign. I mean, their lives must be very different from ours.”

He smiled. “Until they met Ginny. She was just twelve then, and into everything, a thousand questions. So anyway, every time the locals met Ginny, they’d get very solicitous towards my father, and start giving him tea and little sweets and such. They all called him “ _walid aibnatih”_ and they’d shake their heads very sadly. It wasn’t until the last night that my father found out what it meant.”

John looked at Ron, his curiosity captured. “And?”

“They were sympathizing with him, sir. ‘ _Walid aibnatih_ ’ means _‘father of a daughter_ ’ in Arabic.”

John looked at the lad’s deadpan face, and against his will, he cracked a smile. When Ron saw this, he finally smiled too, just a private grin between the two men.

And then it was time. Ron wanted to get Hermione safely onto the platform ahead of the rush of returning students, so they were in place for the moment the gateway between the Muggle station and the wizarding platform activated. Pushing both their luggage trollies lashed together with an extra belt, and holding Hermione’s hand behind him, Ron moved confidently towards the wall.

Even though the Grangers knew what to expect, had seen it before even, it was still a queer sensation to see the two teens and their belongings slide out of existence without a single person on the platform so much as looking up. They stood there, to one side of the selected section of the wall, holding one another for some time. Other students approached, and by ones and twos began to enter the platform. Not wanting to stay long enough to risk being recognized, the Grangers headed to the tube station for the ride back to Hampstead. It was a somber and very quiet ride home.


	16. The Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip back to Hogwarts is bitter-sweet, as Harry finally reunites with Hermione.  
> Awkwardness ensues.
> 
> Also, Harry meets a strange young woman on the train, a student he can't quite place.  
> Awkwardness ensues.
> 
> Neville gets a bit ruffled.   
> Well done, Neville, you absolute unit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very much a Waske chapter, with me more on cleanup duty.

**Chapter 16:** The **Hogwarts Express**

Harry stared out the window unto the platform. His face was plastered with a big frown as he looked at the students and their parents coming through the passage. He couldn’t stop himself from looking for the Grangers and Weasleys. He felt like time was ticking even slower than usual as he watched parents hug their kids. Most of them tried to hide their concern or the frightened looks on their faces. He couldn’t blame them. He noticed that fewer kids were on the platform than usual. 

_Some of the parents might not want their kids to return to Hogwarts,_ Harry thought to himself. 

Harry thought back to this morning when he woke up. There were a lot of things that didn’t quite add up. 

Harry had woken up feeling nervous and expectant. He was going to see Hermione for the first time since his failure at the Department of Mysteries. Failure, fiasco, disaster. He couldn’t really call it anything else. He had gotten up even earlier than usual to pack the rest of his stuff. He had filled his trunk with more extracurricular books than he ever had before. _Hermione would have been impressed_ , he had thought to himself. The backpack from Amelia and Susan was likewise filled with tools, potion ingredients, and other things that he had just gotten a habit of carrying around. He had gone to the kitchen, made breakfast, exchanged a few words with Sirius’s painting before Susan, Amelia, and the twin girls had shown up. Tonks had been nowhere in sight. 

That was the first odd thing of the morning. Tonks had never not been at least part of the party to drop him off at the station or been one to pick him up. It felt wrong in a sense.

He had joked that maybe he should have gone to wake her up, but Amelia had told him Tonks had already left earlier that morning. She had headed to the Ministry while it was still closer to night than morning. 

Amelia wasn’t among the people to drop them off either, as she had said she was going to stay at home with the two girls. That seemed reasonable, but still odd for both Susan and Harry. Harry had asked if they were going to get there by themselves, but then Bill and Fleur had turned up in the living room after asking permission. Not that Harry minded the two of them, but they were just not the people he had expected. 

They had arrived a full hour before the train was leaving and the platform had been deserted. The train hadn’t even arrived at the platform. 

Harry felt out of sort. It felt out of place… this entire morning just felt wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it, it was like everything around him was telling him that something bad was going to happen. Even when he and Susan were aboard the train, he found his thoughts turning in uneasy circles.

“You alright, Harry?” Susan asked, dragging him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, Susan,” Harry said. “Yeah, it’s just… odd, I guess?”

“What do you mean?” Susan asked.

“This morning… I don’t know, it was not what I expected,” Harry said, trying to smooth out his eyebrows which were bunched together on his forehead.

“I know what you mean,” Susan said. “I didn’t expect Bill and Fleur to be the ones escorting us. I thought it would be Tonks, and maybe Auntie.” 

“I know right?” Harry said. “I didn’t even get to– And we are here so early—”

Harry didn’t manage to finish his thought as the door to their compartment was opened and two heads of red hair appeared. Ginny jumped to hug Susan immediately upon their entry.

“Ron,” Harry said amiably. 

Harry’s eyes widened as he spotted the familiar brown hair behind Ron’s shoulder. 

“Right,” Ron scratched his jaw. “We better get this out of the way.” 

He took a step to the side and Hermione was fully revealed to the compartment. Harry felt an urge to run and hug her, she looked scared and frail, but also defiant, unwilling to accept what had happened to her. 

“Hermione,” Harry’s voice was so filled with care and concern that he drew everyone’s gazes to him.

“Hi,” she said quietly. “You must be Harry.”

Harry tried hard to hide the hint of hurt in his eyes as he realised how right Ron had been. She learned about him, but she didn’t know him.

“Yeah,” Harry said, raising his hand for a handshake. He held it up for a second before lowering it again. It was quick enough, that Hermione didn’t even have a chance to take it.

“Susan,” Susan introduced herself realizing that Hermione had little chance in knowing her if she didn’t know Harry.

“I see,” Hermione said with a weak smile. “Pleasure to… meet you?” 

“Good enough,” Susan smiled warmly. 

Ron helped Hermione and Ginny with their trunks, and soon the compartment was filled with owls and a cat alongside the trunks.

Ron sat down next to Harry, who was sitting at the edge of the compartment towards the window. Hermione sat on the other side of Ron, leaving Susan and Ginny on the opposite side.

Harry tried to observe Hermione out of the corner of his eye, but Ron was blocking his vision.

“Anyone spotted Neville or Luna?” Susan asked. 

“They are in their own compartment,” Ginny smiled mischievously. “They said they might join us later.”

“I understand,” Susan smirked.

Hermione nodded, blushing, recalling an embarrassing detail she’d memorised.

Soon the conversation turned from summer to what classes people were taking for their N.E.W.T.s. Harry quietly said a few words, but otherwise kept to himself as the train moved out from the platform.

“Bill and Fleur are getting married next summer,” Ginny said. 

“Really?” Susan said. “They escorted me and Harry this morning! They didn’t say anything.”

“Maybe they were just focused on getting you here safely,” Ron said amiably. 

“Who are Bill and Fleur?” An uncertain voice came from the other side of Ron.

“Our oldest brother and his fiancee,” Ron said as he pointed between Ginny and him.

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Have I met them before?” 

“Not really all that much,” Ron explained. “Fleur was the Tri-Wizard champion for Beauxbatons in our fourth year. Bill came to cheer on Harry during the third task, they must have met there. I guess that would be the only time you met Bill.”

“He was also at the Quidditch World Cup the summer before our fourth year,” Harry said. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione said quickly.

“Don’t be,” Harry said in his softest voice. “Ask all the questions you need.”

“Thanks,” Hermione muttered.

 _This Harry was a little intimidating, but he was nowhere near as bad as her father made him out to be,_ Hermione thought to herself. 

Harry sunk back into silence as his mind wandered. He suddenly remembered that he had to be at the Prefect meeting. He got up in a hurry. He opened his backpack and stuck his whole arm in to find his badge. 

“Right, forgot about this,” Harry said as he pinned it to his chest. “I don’t know if you want to go as well, Hermione, but we are supposed to be at a Prefect’s meeting at the beginning to coordinate patrols and such.”

“Oh, right. Ronald told me about that,” Hermione said quickly, getting her own badge out of her trunk. 

_Of course he did,_ Harry muttered sourly in his mind.

“So, that means you are joining me?” Harry asked carefully.

“Yes,” Hermione said stubbornly. “I want to be able to do everything I did before.”

 _You have no idea how proud of you I am,_ Harry thought to himself. 

He nodded as he opened the compartment door and led the two of them down to the Prefects’ compartment. 

“If you have any questions about being a Prefect, I will try my best to answer them,” Harry said over his shoulder to Hermione.

“Mm hmm,” he heard the acknowledging sound back.

Harry opened the compartment to find the different years of Prefects were already gathered, except for Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, the Slytherin Prefects from their year.

 _Another odd thing today,_ Harry thought to himself. 

“Sorry for the delay,” Harry said with a charming smile. “I completely forgot about this meeting.” 

Hermione made a small sound behind him but didn’t speak up. The school knew about what happened to Hermione. Nothing could stop the rumour mill from running at Hogwarts, so they didn’t say anything to her.

The meeting was over soon after they arrived. Hermione had whispered some questions to Harry while the Head Boy and Head Girl had talked. 

Harry had done his best to answer them, and soon they broke up into their own pairs. 

Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott came over and re-introduced themselves to Hermione and hug Harry. Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil did the same. 

Harry could have sworn that Padma was sending him and Hermione a measuring gaze, and unless he was mistaken there was an element of appraisal in her attention. Harry had considered that with he and Hermione on uncertain ground, he might have to deal with renewed interest from some of his female peers, but he had put the idea out of his mind until Padma’s dark eyes looked him up and down carefully when they exchanged greetings.

Harry and Hermione were soon left alone in the compartment.

“So, any other questions?” Harry asked, looking at Hermione.

“No, not really,” Hermione said, looking more at ease with herself. 

“I guess we should patrol our part of the train before heading back to the others,” Harry suggested.

“Sounds fine,” Hermione said.

Harry hated the way people were leaning against their compartment windows as he walked down the train. He had never felt more like a monkey behind bars.

“Why are they all staring like that?” Hermione asked.

“How much do you know about me?” Harry asked.

“A bit,” Hermione said. “Dad didn’t want me to know too much, Mum told me more, but they didn’t say anything which could warrant these stares. Ronald said a bit too, and I know what you have done is impressive, but still.”

Harry felt like a knife was tearing at his heart when he listened to the words of an outside observer.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry muttered.

“What was that?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said ruffling his hair trying to compose himself. “They started calling me ‘the Chosen One’ in the papers. They are sure I am going to be the one to defeat Voldemort.”

“The dark wizard who did this to me?” Hermione asked, looking equal parts frightened and vengeful.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Honestly, it is all a load of nonsense if you ask me, but it is true that I survived during my infancy. But that was because my mother sacrificed herself for me.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hermione said. 

Harry looked shocked at her for a second.

“What’s with the look?” Hermione asked.

“It’s just,” Harry scratched his head. “When I met you back then in our first year, you knew more about me than I did. Had read all about me in books.” 

“Really?” Hermione looked shocked. “You have books about you?”

“Fabricated stuff and nonsense, mostly,” Harry said immediately. “Apparently I was supposed to fight dragons at the age of five.” 

He didn’t want to admit how much it hurt him that Hermione actually had the same look as the other students on her face. Like he was someone special, like he was ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ or ‘the Chosen One.’ She didn’t see just Harry anymore. 

“I’m nothing special,” Harry tried. “I’m just like everybody else. Didn’t face a dragon until I was at least eight.”

Hermione looked suspiciously at him then grinned when she saw he was joking, but she didn’t say anything. 

_You were the one to never look at me differently_ , Harry thought to himself. 

Harry passed the compartment where Malfoy and his entourage were lounging. The door wasn’t fully closed, so he heard a snippet of their conversation.

“—wasn’t even sure I was going back to Hogwarts this year; things have changed. I have moved on from silly books and teachers—”

Harry didn’t stop as he moved further down the train. Hermione followed beside him.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked all of a sudden.

“Excuse me?” Hermione looked defensive.

“I didn’t mean anything bad,” Harry said quickly. He felt like she was like a deer, easily getting startled if he moved quickly or something. “I ... I’ve been worried about you.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Harry,” Hermione said, keeping her distance. “I am doing perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Good,” Harry exhaled. “That’s really good.”

“I know about us,” Hermione said hesitantly. 

“Are the next words you are going to say ‘we need to talk’?” Harry asked grimly.

Hermione nodded.

“Maybe we should find an empty compartment then,” Harry sighed, fighting his roiling emotions. “I don’t want others to disturb that particular conversation.”

Hermione nodded hesitantly.

“I am not going to attack you,” Harry tried to calm her down. “Even if you don’t remember me or still have the same feelings for me, I want you to know I will always treat you as a friend.”

He found an empty compartment and moved into it, waiting for Hermione before he sat down.

She closed the door behind her.

“Do you mind if I use some privacy charms on the door?” Harry asked. 

“What do they do?” she asked suspiciously.

“They muffle the sound,” Harry said. “It doesn’t block it, so you could scream and people would hear you. If you wanted to.”

He couldn’t stop his face from turning incomparably sad as he said that.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione knew it must feel horrible for him to even have to utter those words. “I just feel the need to be cautious as I work out how everything, how this world, works. It’s not… personal.”

“It’s fine,” Harry said. “I half-way expected it, doesn’t make it hurt any less though. You know what, forget about the charms, it doesn’t matter. It will probably spread throughout the train anyway.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said as she sat down across from him.

“So what are your thoughts?” Harry asked. “I’m trying not to guess what you might be thinking.”

“Uhm…” Hermione said. “Could you tell me about how we got together?” 

Harry sighed before relieving the now bittersweet memories of their previous life together.

“... met on the train, you were helping our friend Neville find his toad…”

“... you found out about the giant snake which was hidden in the castle, and we fought it together…”

“... we spent hours pouring over books, and you challenged me to improve, to keep my focus…”

“...when the dementors were all around us, that’s when I realised that I loved you…”

“...I asked you to the Yule Ball, and I couldn’t believe it when you said yes…” 

“... you were the only one around me who always believed in me even when it got tough…”

“…too many times I tried to push everyone away, but you always broke through, were always with me…

“... I was hurt and couldn’t move, and he just stood there in front of me. He mocked you and looked down on you for who your parents were, he wanted to break you—and me—so he stole what was most important for you…”

“... you asked me ‘who are you?’ And it was like my world just stopped.”

Harry noticed that he was crying by the time he was done telling his story. He had left out some of the most intimate details from their story. They weren’t necessary. His throat felt parched and he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved and saw… nothing. She was crying, but it wasn’t because she remembered, it was because she could feel his hurt.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered from behind her tears. “I just don’t remember any of it, it’s not enough. I can’t be with you. You are remembering a completely different me.”

“I know,” Harry said as he got up. “Can I, if you don’t mind I mean, can I hug you? Sort of a goodbye to what we had, and maybe a hello to you as a possible friend?”

Hermione nodded, she felt she owed him at least that much.

Harry pulled her into his embrace gently as if he was transferring all of his feelings for the old her into her. She unconsciously wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his body, as she had done a thousand times before. 

“Give me some time,” Harry said as he rested his cheek on her head. “I will still want to be friends with the most brilliant witch, I know, but right now…”

“I understand,” Hermione said, releasing him from their hug. “I completely understand. It’s best we not try to force anything when there is a chance we can still be friends.” 

“Could I ask you to grab my backpack from the compartment?” Harry asked. “I am afraid I’m not man enough to sit in the same compartment as the rest of you right now. I think I’m going to find my own space, maybe at the end of the train.”

He wiped away his tears and tried to give her a smile.

“Sure,” Hermione said, feeling a little guilty though she didn’t hold herself in any way responsible for what had happened between them. “I’d be glad to.”

“Don’t feel upset about this,” Harry said suddenly. “It is not your fault, it’s mine. I should have protected you.”

Hermione didn’t argue with him, she just touched his arm as she passed him and went to retrieve his backpack. 

“I finish our patrol myself,” Harry said as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, trying to make his voice sound less brittle. He couldn’t do anything about his eyes, but thankfully they were somewhat hidden behind his glasses. “You visit with everyone, take time to adjust."

Hermione looked as he turned away from the compartment and walked further down the train. She looked at the firm shoulders behind the backpack and couldn’t help feel a sense of loss like her body was telling her this was all wrong, but her rational mind couldn’t agree with her.

 _After all_ , she argued with herself as she sat down with the three in the compartment, _the map is not the territory._

Susan sent her a glance, but she didn’t comment on Harry’s behaviour or anything. Ron was trying his best to lighten the mood and soon they were talking about anything Hermione asked about, even if she felt a little more dispirited as the train ride progressed. 

Harry was in a stupor as he walked further away from his previous compartment. He debated whether he should go to the Prefects’ compartment, but decided against it. There had to be one compartment at the end of the train where no one was sitting. 

He got interrupted in his train of thought when a compartment door was opened and a familiar face looked out at him.

“Hello, Harry,” Luna’s dreamy voice gained his attention. “Foul mood?”

“Something like that,” Harry said briskly, noticing that Neville looked rather ruffled, in the compartment. “Doing something you aren’t supposed to?”

“No, just some boyfriend-girlfriend things,” Luna said honestly. “Want to talk?”

“I need to think first,” Harry said. “Got a new wand, Neville?”

“Oh, yeah,” Neville smiled. “Got it as soon as I was released from St. Mungo’s. One of Ollivander’s last. I think.”

“What happened to him?” Harry asked. 

“Dragged off, Gran said,” Neville shrugged. “Nothing official, you know how it’s getting.”

“That’s a disturbing thought,” Harry nodded. “Well, see you both later.”

Harry didn’t let Luna drag him into her tempo this time, he needed to sort out his emotions by himself.

Harry couldn’t find an empty compartment, but the last one was only occupied by a single girl who Harry didn’t know.

“Do you mind?” Harry asked as he sat down.

“You’re Harry Potter,” the girl said.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I was looking for some quiet to think about stuff.”

“Okay,” the girl looked at him intently with a hint of concern.

Harry felt the hazel eyes were incredibly familiar, but he could have sworn he had never seen the girl before. 

Harry sank into his thoughts. 

_This is for the best,_ Harry kept telling himself, no matter how unwilling he was. _This way, she won’t be targeted by anyone who wants to hurt you anymore. This way she is safe._

Memories of his times with Hermione kept flashing through his mind, maybe it was because he had told Hermione their whole story together, but it was like he was saying goodbye to the woman she had been in those memories, locking them away and slowly making room for the girl she had become. 

_She is still Hermione, just not_ your _Hermione._ Harry thought.

“I am unwilling,” he muttered in his distraction.

“What was that?” the girl in front of him asked.

“Oh,” Harry hadn’t even noticed he was speaking out loud. “Sorry, it’s nothing.”

“You can tell me, if it helps,” the girl said.

“I’m not sure I can trust you to keep my secrets,” Harry said, trying his best not to sound rude.

“I guess you can’t,” the girl shrugged as she focused back on the book she was reading.

Harry stared at her, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something incredibly familiar about the girl in front of him.

“Have we met before?” Harry asked.

“I’m going to Hogwarts as well,” the girl said. “It wouldn’t be impossible. Of course, everyone knows who you are.”

Harry winced visibly at that.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,” the girl said quickly. “Well, I guess I did. You are quite famous.”

“Thanks,” Harry muttered darkly, opened up his backpack, and grabbed a book from it to distract himself. Harry kept staring over the edge of the book at the girl.

“If you keep staring that intently at me I might begin to think you fancy me,” the girl teased. 

Harry didn’t know what to say. He had half expected her to be like the rest of the lovestruck girls on the train, but she didn’t push. Instead, she continued reading, hardly sparing him a glance. How could he not know who she was? Was he that wrapped up in his own world? Had they taken a class together? Did she eat near him in the Great Hall?

“That’s refreshing,” Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. “I have been getting a lot of _those_ looks on the train already. I think most of the fourth through seventh year girls are looking at me like I am a fresh piece of meat.”

“I can imagine,” the girl chuckled. “Well, who’s to say I don’t see you as a tempting piece of meat as well?”

“Maybe,” Harry mused. “Sorry, I just got dumped. My reactions are all off.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the girl said, with no emotion in her voice at all.

“I saw it coming,” Harry said. 

“Hermione Granger, right?” the girl said. “She is losing out on you.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled sadly. “It’s for the better, it’s not really safe to stay around me.”

“Why?”

“Because of you-know-who,” Harry said. “Apparently he really has a thing for guys with glasses and dark hair.”

The girl in front of him couldn’t stop a snort from escaping her. 

Harry smiled, it was refreshing to just hang around with someone. It made him think of Tonks.

Harry sighed. “Sorry, that just really miss my friend right now.” 

“They’re not on the train?” the girl asked, turning the page in her book and not looking up. 

“No,” Harry said. “She is out of Hogwarts. Her name is Nymphadora.”

Harry was looking down on the floor, but she could see the smile on his face.

“That’s a horrible name,” the girl in front of him said.

Harry chuckled. “She doesn’t care for it much either. Though she really is a great friend, I managed to screw it up royally during the summer with her. I’m having an off year.”

“How so?” 

“There was some flirting, and it seemed to be heading to something _more_ ,” Harry said leaning back against the wall. “It would have been amazing— _She_ is amazing—but I was still together with my girlfriend at the time, so I shot it down. I know it was the right thing, at the time, but now… I don’t imagine anything is going to happen with her after that, she is too amazing to be a replacement… I don’t think I could start something with her even if I wanted to.”

Harry looked back into the eyes of the girl in front of him, who was now ignoring her book and focusing fully on him.

“Do you?” Her voice was less emotionless, there was something trying to peek through. “Want tom I mean?”

“You know,” Harry said. “You remind me of her, she has the same colour eyes, well she at least did for most of the summer. She can change them at will, but …”

Harry noticed a flicker in the girl’s eyes as he said that. Something which was very familiar to him.

“Wait a second,” Harry said, looking straight at her. “ _Nym-pha-do-ra,_ ” he said, putting pressure on each syllable. 

The girl’s hair colour flickered ever so subtly at the roots. 

“Tonks?!” Harry cried, blushing.

“Fine,” Tonks said. “You got me.” 

She morphed back into her normal face, and her hair was bright pink, but she kept the smaller, younger stature of a student.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“Well, I’m the best suited for undercover guarding on the train, don’t you think?” she said off-handedly. “I mingled, checked each compartment, all nice as you please. Would have worked too, no one was asking any questions until you came along.”

Harry realised what he had been saying, and he paled. 

“I.. I… ehm…” Harry panicked.

“So, Hermione dumped you,” Tonks said looking at him with a measuring gaze.

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking sad. “Or rather, we agreed that it was over? I expected it in a way. How could she be with me when she doesn’t remember me?” 

“I guess not,” Tonks shrugged. 

“Well, please forget everything I said about you,” Harry said.

“Why?” Tonks asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Because it is embarrassing?” Harry countered.

“Why would it be embarrassing?” Tonks smiled at him.

“Because I don’t want you to think I’m hitting on you because Hermione broke up with me,” Harry said seriously.

“Well, seeing as you didn’t know I was me I think you are good,” Tonks said. 

“I guess it also explains why you didn’t see me as a piece of meat,” Harry smiled, feeling a little better.

“I may have mentioned that I very much see you as a tempting piece of meat,” Tonks said casually, returning to her book.

Harry couldn’t quite process what she was saying.

“Excuse me?” Harry asked.

“Tempting,” Tonks said seriously. “You. To me. I’m done denying my attraction to you. I am not going to be a replacement or a fix for your broken heart, but that doesn’t change that I am attracted to you. In fact, I’m attracted to you rather a lot, if you must know.”

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times.

“Don’t look so silly,” Tonks mockingly reprimanded him. “Take your time, process this. I guess it is no surprise that I will be around Hogwarts this year, guarding the students. I’m staying in Hogsmeade. We can talk during your first weekend there.”

Harry just nodded his head mechanically as he looked at her.

“Good,” Tonks said. “Now, you look a lot better now than when you came in, and we will soonish be arriving at Hogwarts, so you should go back to the others. They are probably worried. A lot of people care about you, you know. It was never just her.”

Harry put the book back in his backpack and stood up. He pulled open the compartment door and looked over his shoulder. 

“Thanks, Tonks,” Harry said with an adorable grin as he left her sitting there.

“Damn Casanova,” Tonks muttered angrily, though she couldn’t hide the smile on her face even after she morphed back into her school girl appearance.

Harry was still nursing a broken heart, but everything wasn’t all gloom anymore. He felt a certain sense of vain satisfaction in that Tonks had admitted she found him attractive. It didn’t change the fact that everything inside him hurt, but it served as a nice distraction compared to having to deal with this alone. Besides, he’d thought Tonks was beautiful since they had first met.

He arrived in front of the compartment with Ron, Susan, Ginny, and Hermione. Harry breathed in deeply before he opened the door once more.

“Where have you been?” Susan asked.

“Patrolling,” Harry said casually, trying hard not to look at Hermione. He got back into the seat which he had sat in earlier. “I think we will be arriving soon.” 

They all looked outside the window and spotted Hogwarts in the distance.

“Wow…” Hermione’s small voice came from across the compartment. 

“Right,” Harry smiled. “Seeing it for the first time. Same reaction and everything, though this time you aren’t telling us to get changed.”

Hermione blushed from the teasing, but she understood it wasn’t mean-spirited, so she smiled sweetly at him. Harry couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat.

 _Fuck me,_ Harry thought. _And here I was sure Voldemort would be the death of me._

Ron had to stop Hermione from grabbing her trunk when they got off the train, telling her it would be brought to her dormitory for her by the staff. Harry noticed that he didn’t talk about the house-elves which were employed at Hogwarts. It was probably an attempt to not restart the whole S.P.E.W. thing with her once more. 

When they arrived at the carriages carrying them to the castle, Ron and Ginny were gasping at the sight of Thestrals.

“Oh, how magical,” Hermione said softly. “Horseless carriages.”

“Sorry to break it to you,” Harry said. “They are pulled by thestrals.”

“Oh, really?” Hermione’s inquisitive nature was lit. 

“Yeah,” Harry said with a sad smile.

“They look hideous,” Ron said. 

“I can’t see them,” Hermione said sadly. 

“You would have been able to, if not for what happened,” Harry said grimly. “You watched Sirius die as well.”

Hermione looked as shocked this time as she had been the first time she had realised the underlying meaning of why people could see the creatures. They sat quietly as the carriages took them to the castle of Hogwarts itself.


	17. Starlit Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione find their way around one another, settling into the school and into their new relationship.
> 
> Snape teaches Defence, and Harry has a duel.
> 
> Luna shows Harry some consideration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Waske-heavy chapter, but this one needed extensive re-writes to comply with site policies. I did some tweaking of language for tone and to reinforce some character moments, especially for Snape and Luna. I thought they were a little flat in the previous draft.
> 
> Best, Killjoy.

**Chapter 17** **Starlit Night**

Harry found his way to the Great Hall with the others, everything was looking as usual. He spotted Professor Slughorn sitting at the high table with his giant walrus mustache. He looked less frazzled and haunted compared to when Harry met him a little more than a month ago. 

“Who is the new professor?” Ron asked.

“Horace Slughorn,” Harry said. “He used to teach here, and has left retirement.”

“How do you know that?” Ginny asked.

“I helped Dumbledore recruit him again,” Harry shrugged.

“What does he teach?” Hermione asked.

“Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Ron said instantly. “It’s the only open position.”

Harry didn’t bother correcting him–it would be revealed at the feast either way. It was weird for him, he thought, looking at Hermione from a distance.

 _Well, technically not a distance,_ a tiny voice in his head told him. _She is right there for the taking._

Harry shook his head, that was the last thing she needed right now. An ex-boyfriend who tried to lay claim to her. He would just try to act casual around her and see how it turned out. It was better being able to talk to her than being hated—or even worse, feared—by her. Harry felt a wave of sadness come over him as he looked at her amazed expressions. She was looking up at the ceiling, just like she had in her first year. One benefit among all the pains, she at least had recaptured her sense of wonder.

“I heard you took the O.W.L. exams again,” Harry said. 

“How?” Hermione looked suspicious.

“I asked Ron,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Hermione sent a little glare towards Ron.

“Don’t be angry at him,” Harry said. “I was just concerned. How did you do?” 

“Not good enough,” Hermione said. “Well, I passed all of my exams, so that is something, but I only got two O’s, in Charms and Arithmancy. The rest were E’s.”

“That’s still really impressive,” Harry said. “You are absolutely brilliant, you know that.”

“Thanks,” Hermione blushed. “Still, I regret not being able to take all ten classes at N.E.W.T. levels. Professor Snape only takes Outstandings in Potions, Ronald told me.”

“I see,” Harry said as they sat down. “Well, still congratulations—you got an O.W.L. more than I did.”

“Really?” Hermione looked surprised.

“Yeah, failed History of Magic,” Harry shrugged. “I had a really bad headache on the day, so I wound up with a Poor for my exam.”

“What classes are you taking?” Hermione asked with the same glint in her eyes she had always had when it came to their studies.

Harry was just about to tell her when the doors opened and the new first years walked in with Professor McGonagall in the lead.

“There are a lot fewer of them this year,” Ginny muttered.

“There are even fewer than our year,” Harry agreed. “I don’t blame the parents at all.” 

“I suppose most parents could teach the first-year curriculum,” Ron said. “It’s not like it is all that advanced for most parents.”

“My parents couldn’t teach me,” Hermione said with a frown.

“Well, neither could mine,” Harry said trying to cheer her up.

Hermione looked aghast at his comment.

“Oh, sorry,” Harry knew he had messed up. “I didn’t mean that the way it must have sounded. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I have a bit of a morbid sense of humour. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“You didn’t,” Hermione said quickly.

An awkward silence fell on the table. Thankfully they were rescued by Professor McGonagall, who put the old Sorting Hat on its tabouret. 

Harry looked as the Sorting Hat opened its ‘mouth’ and began to sing. It was pretty much the same as the year before. It was focusing on the fact that they had to stay together while listing the different values of the houses. Harry wasn’t surprised anymore, it was like the Hat just knew what was going on around it.

Harry clapped unenthusiastically when the Hat returned to silence.

“Why was I not in Ravenclaw?” Hermione asked.

“We’ve talked about that, actually. You were sitting there for ages,” Harry remembered. “The hat was undecided between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Professor McGonagall was the same as you, took more than five minutes for the hat to put her in Gryffindor. It wanted to put me in Slytherin for a brief moment. Well, the thing is the hat takes your own opinion into consideration, so I guess you must have read a lot about the houses, maybe even Professor Dumbledore, who was in Gryffindor. It might have influenced your choice.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “I could see that.” 

“I don’t think you would have been happier in Ravenclaw,” Harry mused. “They are quite competitive, not that Gryffindors aren’t… it’s just we are more focused on Quidditch. They’re a bit more cut-throat and don’t always look after each other as much as we do. Ask Luna some time.” 

“Why don’t you think I would have been happy in Ravenclaw?” Hermione asked. 

“You were so nervous when you got here, trying to fit in,” Harry thought back as the sorting continued on its way. They would sometimes need to clap for a new Gryffindor first year. “Well, I was too, so don’t worry. Well, anyway, you ended up being a little too worried about being right all the time. I mean, now, looking back at it, it was charming. At the time, not so much.”

“Oh shush,” Hermione blushed from embarrassment. “I can see why that would irritate people in a house for wisdom.”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled. “Not that you didn’t irritate the rest of us either.”

“Harry Potter!” Hermione said affronted.

“I think you are missing my middle name ‘James’ there,” Harry grinned. “You would always use my full name, whenever I annoyed you or did something stupid.”

Hermione laughed. “And do you plan on doing a lot of things that are stupid? You are not nearly as bad as my father says you are.”

Harry frowned a little. 

“Well, there are some things he is right about,” Harry said. “I am a magnet for trouble, so it would probably be better if you took this chance to stay away from me.”

“Why would I do that?” Hermione asked.

“Because of what happened to you last time,” Harry said seriously.

Harry looked up and spotted Dumbledore standing at the lectern. His right hand was looking peculiar, a shade darker than Harry remembered it. 

“Before we begin our welcoming feast,” the old man said. “I would like to remind everyone to stay together, form friendships, as together we are strong, while divided we are weak. Now let the feast begin.”

Harry very much enjoyed the look on Hermione’s face when the platters in front of them were filled with food. She began studying the platters.

“Eat first,” Harry said. “I can explain the magics to you later.” 

“Really?” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, of course,” Harry said. 

“You never told me which classes you were taking,” Hermione said.

“Oh right,” Harry nodded. “Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, Defence, Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration.” 

“Oh wow,” Hermione said. “We will have a lot of classes together.” 

“I suspected we would,” Harry said. “You still taking Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures?”

“No,” Hermione said. “Ronald told me that N.E.W.T. courses are extremely tough. Also, I am not much of an outdoors girl.”

“What about you Ron?” Harry asked.

Ron swallowed the food he had in his mouth, a marked improvement from the habits of his younger years.

“I was going to take Charms, Transfiguration, and Defence—Herbology too, I think. I wanted to take Potions, but those should be enough for me to work in the DMLE after Hogwarts. Better than nothing.”

Hermione nodded approvingly. Harry noticed there was a warmth in her eyes as she looked at Ron.

 _Guess I have gotten replaced as the best friend too,_ Harry thought sourly to himself. _It’s probably for the best. She never needed to depend on anyone, so she will do just fine without me._

Harry answered any question Hermione threw his way, but soon she didn’t have anything more to ask, and the feast was coming to a close when Professor Dumbledore stood up once more.

“I would like to remind the first years that the Forbidden Forest is aptly named and should be taken rather seriously. Some of the older students would do well to remember as well. Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that several items are forbidden in Hogwarts and that several new items have been added to the list, specifically from Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes.”

That had gotten a few snickers from many of the students who remembered the legendary pranksters. 

“I would like to introduce our newest instructor, Professor Slughorn, who has gracefully returned from his retirement and taken up his old position as Potions Master.”

There was a general murmur and some people even applauded and celebrated the fact that Snape wasn’t teaching potions anymore. 

“Consequently, Professor Snape will be kind enough to assume the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Professor Dumbledore finished. “Now off to your beds, as it has been a rather long day.”

There was a general cheer for Professor Snape from the Slytherin table, while there were some of the other students who had turned pale at the fact that the man was now teaching DADA. 

Harry wasn’t at all surprised.

“Snape is teaching Defence?” Ron asked. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Finally got his wish.”

“Is Dumbledore mental?” Ron asked. 

“I don’t think so,” Harry said. “Well, maybe he is.” 

“How can you speak about a Professor like that?” Hermione nagged.

“You’ll see,” Ron said solemnly. “Who do you think the new Quidditch captain is?”

“Oh, forgot to tell you,” Harry said. “It’s me.”

“Wicked,” Ron said. “Well I guess it was expected, you are the best player in Gryffindor and you helped coach us last year. Hope I will still make the team this year.”

“Well, seeing as there are so few of us left from that team, I was planning to do full try-outs for every position,” Harry said. “No favouritism to anyone.” 

Ron grimaced a little.

“When you play at your best there is no one who can beat you,” Harry said with a smile.

Ron regained his confidence and nodded. 

They got to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had been fascinated by everything like she was seeing it for the first time. It was novel to see a sixteen-year-old girl looking completely dazzled by the moving staircase. Harry kept watching everything about her, storing it in his mind. She was so beautiful and innocent, and decidedly not something he wanted to corrupt in the slightest. 

Ginny helped guide Hermione towards her dormitory and Ron still thankfully oblivious to the fact that Harry wasn’t okay at all trudged up to their own dormitory without even registering that Harry had stopped in the middle of the room. 

Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak from his robes; he never left anywhere without it anymore. It would be foolish. He fished out the Marauder's map from his pocket and looked at the names patrolling around. He never left that behind either. 

It wasn’t strictly necessary for Harry to do this seeing as him being a prefect it would be easy to explain why he was out of bed as just a patrol on the first night, but he didn’t want to be bothered. 

He quietly exited the common room and moved down the corridor. He needed fresh air and he wanted to look at the stars. He made his way towards the empty Astronomy Tower to sit down and contemplate.

He was unobstructed as he moved up there. He passed a couple of staff, worst of them all Filch, who looked like he was just waiting for the next reign of pranksters to fill the vacuum Fred and George left. 

Harry opened the door to the tower, locked the door behind him with every magical seal he had learned over the summer. He did not want to be disturbed as he moved to the viewing platform. He stood there looking up into the stars.

“Hey old man,” Harry said, looking at the dog constellation. “I know you have a painting at home, but I couldn’t possibly keep that away from your wife. So I am back to talking to a star. Saw her today, she is… innocent… like a blank canvas. She seems alright, but it feels like being next to a different person. She is younger than she was before, but I think that is going to change fast. She was … is brilliant like that, nothing keeps her down. I’m going to have most classes with her. Not saying I’m surprised, but really I can’t even hide from her. Knowing her as she was when she started, I’m probably going to turn into her goal or her rival in knowledge. That might be fun.”

Harry’s voice turned a little hoarser as the stars began to blur a bit. 

“She dumped me…” Harry had begun to cry as he let the realization wash over him. “We promised… We had promised to stay together forever. She promised that her love for me would always be like the ocean which _this_ was supposed to represent.” Harry angrily held up his left arm, the small teardrop dangling from it. “I could have fooled around and she wouldn’t even know, wouldn’t care, because I am not important to her anymore. I’m just someone else, she still treats me well… BUT THIS IS KILLING ME!” 

Harry finally let loose and fell to his knees as tears streamed down his face. His body was silently heaving up and down as he tried his best to get his emotions back under control. He didn’t know how long he had been kneeling there. His legs felt cold, his body was exhausted, his eyes hurt and his throat was sore and parched. 

“I don’t even know why I am venting this out to you,” Harry said. “You are just a bloody star. Hermione needs Ron, Ginny has Susan, Luna has Neville and I am left by myself… all by myself. No one even asked me if I was alright. It was like _my_ feelings didn’t even matter. They just got on with their lives, not realizing that I have lost far more than they ever imagined. Hermione, my parents, you!” 

Harry’s grievances and feelings poured forth in a second wave as he felt like he was going to explode from all the feelings inside him. 

“And I am just supposed to let it happen, like a good boy, like a selfless noble person, while my heart is being pulled from my chest every time I hear her voice. It’s not fair…”

Harry moved towards the abyss. 

“It would probably kill me if I fell from here,” Harry said sadly. “It wouldn’t even hurt I think.”

 _You promised me,_ a familiar, too familiar voice entered his head. 

“Shit, even my conscience is beginning to sound like Tonks,” Harry muttered angrily. “I’m not going to do it.”

 _Good_ , Tonks’s voice sounded in his head.

“Fuck, I must be going mental, talking to myself,” Harry sighed. “Everything is just fucked. I can’t do this alone, Sirius!” 

The empty sky did little to answer him as he looked up in indignant fury. No one was around to hear him. 

Harry, feeling like he had finally vented, moved towards his invisibility cloak and pulled it over himself once more. He noticed the sky changing colour slowly began to change as dawn was approaching. 

“Shit,” Harry cursed. “I didn’t expect to be out of bed all night.”

He quickly rushed back to his dormitory and thankfully still found all of them asleep in their beds. He didn’t need questions about where he had been from anybody right now. There would be enough questions as rumour would go around about him and Hermione not being together anymore. 

He didn’t even bother going to sleep as he pulled on a set of training clothes to go for a morning jog.

 _If I’m lucky then I might have a free period later today,_ Harry thought to himself.

Harry looked entirely dead as he stared into his glass of pumpkin juice at the breakfast table. He had by now learned to tune out the noise of people around him. He was too tired to care.

He watched as Professor McGonagall was passing down timetables for the different students. When she reached him, he noticed her glaring at him.

 _She can’t know that I have been out of bed all night,_ Harry shivered a little.

“Potter, follow me,” she said as she moved along down the table. They stopped in front of Ron and Hermione who were sitting a little away from him. 

“Mr. Weasley, I understood you hoped to be an Auror, so why don’t I see you taking Potions?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“I didn’t get an Outstanding in my O.W.L.s,” Ron said a little bitterly. “I only got an E.”

“Well, that does not bar you from taking the class, Mr. Weasley, Professor Slughorn welcomes E’s in his classes,” Professor McGonagall said. 

“That means I can take it too?” Hermione asked. 

“If you have gotten Exceeds Expectations in your re-exam, I don’t see why not Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said. 

“Then I would like to add it to my schedule,” Hermione said quickly. “I don’t have the book or any potions ingredients though.”

“I am sure Professor Slughorn will lend you a copy of the book and potions ingredients for the time being,” Professor McGonagall said. “Mr. Longbottom, I am afraid I can’t let you take Transfiguration as I do not allow Acceptable in my class, though I know that Professor Flitwick is more than happy to take you in his charms course.”

Neville muttered something.

“What was that?” Professor McGonagall said.

“My gran says Charms is a soft course,” Neville said. 

“I will send Augusta a stern letter telling her that Charms is a perfectly good subject and if she has any complaints, she can take them up with me,” she ended the conversation by adding Charms to his timetable. 

“Now, Potter, follow me,” Professor McGonagall said. 

Ron, Hermione, and Neville sent him an interrogating glance, but Harry just shrugged, too tired to deal with any of this.

She led them into her office and beckoned for him to sit down.

“I have gotten a letter from Miss Granger’s father,” Professor McGonagall said. 

Harry lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.

“He is adamant that I limit the contact between you and his daughter,” she continued.

“I’m not surprised,” Harry said bitterly.

“I have no intention of doing such,” Professor McGonagall said. 

“Wait -- what?” Harry said, confused.

“It is honestly nonsense,” Professor McGonagall said. “There is no way I can limit your interaction barring kicking either of you out of this school. While it is regrettable what happened to Miss Granger, she is more than capable of continuing and finishing her education. She is a strong woman, who will not let this setback slow her down in any way.”

Harry nodded in agreement with the professor in front of him.

“I would like to ask for you to help her settle in as much as possible, maybe even help her by tutoring if it is necessary. When your mind is on your studies, you are among the brightest in her year, so I think it would be natural.” 

Harry grimaced at that.

“Something wrong?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Well…” Harry didn’t really want to talk about it. “She broke up with me yesterday on the train.” 

“I see,” Professor McGonagall frowned. “That certainly complicates matters.”

Harry fought hard to not break down once again.

“And it clearly explains that dreadful look on your face,” Professor McGonagall said. “Well, I understand that asking you to be close to her in this situation would be cruel of me. Still, I would like for you to help her if she asks for it.”

“I think Ron is a better choice for that,” Harry said.

“Mr. Weasley?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“He helped her during the summer, Professor,” Harry sent her a sad smile. “It must have worked, what with her scores on her exams.”

“I see,” Professor McGonagall said. “It’s generous of you to say that, Harry. It must not have been easy to accept. Well, I am not going to keep you for any longer, classes must have started already. Also, I have already had twenty people inquire about Quidditch Tryouts, so I will have someone give you a list”

“Right,” Harry said quickly as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. 

Harry hurried down to the Runes classroom and knocked on the door only a little late. 

“I’m sorry Professor Babbling,” Harry said. “I got held up by Professor McGonagall. She wanted to talk Quidditch tryouts.”

“Very well,” Professor Babbling said curtly. “Have a seat, Mr. Potter. As I was saying, N.E.W.T. level runes is different from what you learn during your O.W.L. years. These two years we will move from theoretical knowledge and translation towards more practical applications like Rune Carving and Rune Breaking.” 

Harry found himself an empty table at the back of the class, he grabbed his book and several sheets of parchment and began taking notes. He didn’t bother about the looks he got from everyone around him as they all knew, he would usually sit beside Hermione Granger in this class. 

The rest of the class ended swiftly as Professor Babbling gave them a ton of homework including the theoretical manufacturing of a working rune-cluster. Harry had of course worked on a lot of rune clusters during the summer both with Thordrum and alone, so he had a head start compared to others. 

When class was over he quickly left the classroom and headed towards the library to get started on his already sizable homework. 

“Hey, Harry,” Katie Bell said as he walked down the corridor to the library. “Congratulations on the captain’s position. Knew it would be you.”

“I honestly think you or Ginny would be just as qualified,” Harry said.

“Nonsense,” Katie laughed. “When are tryouts?”

“I was planning to do them during the weekend, McGonagall says twenty people have already inquired about it,” Harry said. 

“Okay,” Katie said. 

“I’m going to redo the team, all positions open,” Harry said. “Not playing favourites, but I think you have a great shot at getting in.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Katie smiled. “Where’s Hermione?” 

“Oh erm…” Harry hesitated. 

“Don’t tell me?!” Katie’s eyes went through several different emotions. “You guys really broke up? I didn’t believe it.”

“Well yeah,” Harry said, bitterly. “Happened on the train.”

“I’m sorry,” Katie said though her eyes did take a double-take over his body. 

“Thanks,” Harry said. “I’m going to go do some homework, I have a free period before lunch and Ancient Runes is going to be tough if I don’t get started.”

“I have that N.E.W.T., too,” Katie said eagerly. “I could tutor you if you like.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said. “But I think I’m good, got an Outstanding in my O.W.L.” 

“Impressive. Okay, then. I’ll look for you this weekend? Um, for tryouts?” 

Harry nodded and quickly moved past her to find an empty table in the library. He cast a couple of privacy charms and even a rather powerful Notice-Me-Not, which should keep people from seeing him working there. He spotted a group of girls walking in after him, looking around for a bit before leaving.

 _They couldn’t be here for me, could they?_ Harry thought but quickly shook that notion from his head. He did not need a group of fangirls following him around. 

“Worst case scenario, I will just walk around under my invisibility cloak,” Harry said to himself. 

He quickly sat down and opened his _Advanced Runes_ book and got to work. He didn’t notice that Hermione had also come to the library, but had ultimately not sat down to work herself. 

By the time lunch came around Harry felt incredibly sleepy. _I should have taken a nap instead,_ Harry thought to himself. He looked down at his timetable and spotted Defence Against the Dark Arts after lunch. 

“This is going to be good,” Harry said to himself. He walked into the Great Hall and sat down next to Susan. 

“Any classes yet?” Harry asked. 

“No,” Susan said. “You look like shit.” 

“Feel like it too,” Harry stretched. “I had Runes this morning, and we are going to work on practical rune work.”

“Can’t be hard for you then,” Susan smirked. “Pretty much full practical already during the summer.”

Harry just smiled as he rubbed his forehead. 

“How come you’re sitting over here?” Susan asked.

“I…” Harry hesitated. “Do I need to have a reason to sit with my ‘sister’?” 

“Glib tongue,” Susan swatted his shoulder. “Real reason?” 

“Hermione dumped me yesterday,” Harry said. “I just felt like having some space.”

“I thought she had,” Susan said quietly. “She was distracted when she came back, and you just up and left.” 

“Was it really that obvious?” Harry groaned. 

“You have always been a shit liar,” Susan smiled. “Hide with me for as long as you need.”

“Thanks, Susan,” Harry smiled at her before he dug into the food. “You got Defence too?” 

“Yeah,” Susan said with a smile. “How bad is it going to be with Snape?” 

“Bad enough I think,” Harry said.

They finished eating and got up together and walked to the Defence Classroom. 

“Here’s to hoping the jinx works,” Harry said.

“What jinx?” Susan asked.

“We never had a teacher last more than a year,” Harry said. “So maybe Snape will be gone by the end of term?”

“That’s not okay,” Susan nagged. “He is still our professor.”

“Right, dearest sibling,” Harry teased. “Could you forgive this foolish younger brother of yours?” 

They didn’t get to say anymore as Ron, Hermione, and Neville walked over to them. 

“Fine,” Susan remarked. 

“I didn’t expect to find you cheating on your girlfriend already,” a drawling voice sounded out from behind him. “And with, is that Susan Bones?”

“You really don’t have anything better to do, do you?” Harry looked at Malfoy. “How’s your left arm? Itchy?” 

Malfoy paled but didn’t manage to say anything more before the door was opened. 

“Get in,” Snape’s voice came from the teacher’s desk. 

_Odd,_ Harry thought, _usually, he would let us bicker until it is just before wand point._

Harry looked around as they entered. The room had certainly been altered to reflect the newly installed professor’s personal touch. The room was dark and somehow managed to seem as though it was deep in the dungeons instead of in the heart of the castle. Long, sputtering candles dripped tallow from levitating sconces near each table, casting shadows that made familiar faces seem distorted and distressed. A series of paintings adorned the walls, appearing to show victims suffering from jinxes, curses, and dark magic. An uneasy hush fell over rate students.

“Books, down. Eyes, up. Yes, you too, Granger.”

Hermione flinched under his gaze, and quickly put away her text. Even Malfoy, who had been lounging casually at his table, sat up with stern attention as the somber professor compelled their attention with his voice and demeanor.

Snape’s dark eyes search each student, perhaps lingering longer on Harry’s before moving on but seemingly search with each student for something which he clearly did not find.

“Five teachers, in five years. No wonder your work has been so… it would be too generous of me to say ‘adequate’ during that time.”

 _And far be it from you to ever be generous in anything,_ Harry commented to himself. 

“Adequate work may have been sufficient for your past professors,” Snape drawled, “but at the N.E.W.T. level, more is expected. My standards are not going to be forgiving based on any past… inconsistencies.”

As Snape spoke, the candles flickered and popped, growing dimmer, and his dark for receded into the shadows. He described the Dark Arts, their seductive power, their dangerous, slippery slope towards corruption, even madness. Darker still, his voice reaching out now, holding them transfixed. Even Harry, despite himself, found the presentation compelling, drawing him in.

“The Dark Arts are fluid, eternal, yet ephemeral. Not a single path to power, but a mindset, a way of seeing the power of magic which opens itself with teasing, seductive glimpses into a powerful world just out of reach.” Only a hint of Snape’s pale face was visible now as the room neared total darkness. Harry was conflicted, fascinated by Snape’s view of the Dark Arts, but also repulsed by the silky, almost reverent way Snape was speaking of vile, reprehensible magics.

“The Unforgivable Curses,” Snape said, suddenly more loudly, snapping them to attention, “are not the end, but rather the beginning of the Dark Path. Beyond them lies a realm of unspeakable power, to forestall death itself,or to raise the mocking corpses of the death, the Inferi…”

“Inferi?” whispered Parvati Patil in a wavering voice. “Have there been sitings of an Inferius?”

“You-Know-Who used them during the war,” someone whispered back. “You have to expect, don’t you, he would again?”

Snape clapped his hands, the sound echoing off the stone walls like a pistol shot. The candles flared and light returned with shocking clarity, as the students blinked and shivered where they sat.

“—you are, I imagine, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of the nonverbal spell?” 

Harry’s hand was raised into the air at the same time as Hermione’s. 

Snape looked conflicted, as if he was deciding which student of the two he liked the least. 

“Very well–Miss Granger?”

“Time,“ Hermione said firmly. “Without a warning from an audible incantation, you gain a split-second advantage over your opponent when it comes to defence.”

“Another fine example of what can be learned of magic _by rote_ ,” Snape said with a hint of a sneer. “True magic resides not in the book, but in the blood. It is inherent, but of course, not all witches can accomplish this. Or wizards."

Harry knew from Snape’s sideways glances that he was referring to Neville or even himself, even if he had proven him wrong last year. 

Snape divided them into pairs to practice silent jinxes and silent shield charms. Unknown to Snape, most of the students had learned the child charm the previous year from Harry and his friends, though the silent aspect was a new wrinkle. In soon became apparent to Harry, and presumably to Snape, that several students were mouthing or even whispering the incantations as they practiced. Whether this was cheating or a stopgap was unclear, but only a few, including both Harry and Hermione, were able to quickly become completely silent in the exercise.

Harry stood in front of Susan, who had an apprehensive look on her face. She was cheating, but Harry was silent as the grave as he confidently deflected jinx after jinx. Harry felt Snape’s eyes on him as he watched the boy perform. Hermione was similarly silent as she repelled Neville’s muttered Jelly-Legs jinxes. Harry was sure that any other DADA teacher would have given them points. 

“Everyone stop!” Snape said. “Some of you seem to have learnt to whisper in a lumber mill, but a few have met the first level of my challenge, so perhaps a more vigorous explanation is order.”

He paused in front of Harry and raised an eyebrow. Harry nodded, accepting the unspoken duelling challenge.

“In the interest of safety, I shall restrict myself to stunning and disarming spells, and shield charms for defence. I’m not worried about your elections, Potter, but you may find it safer to restrict yourself as well.” Snape condescendingly turned his back on Harry, pacing to the end of the classroom.

Harry didn’t take it to heart, he had been duelling for most of the summer, so he could perform a number of non-verbal spells. Tonks had made sure it was quite literally pounded into him. 

Snape cleared the desks with a wave of his wand and the other students scurried to the sides of the room.

“On your toes, you lot. I will not be responsible for students blundering into deflected jinxes,” Snape said, fixing Neville particularly with his gaze, despite the fact that Longbottom had moved quite well clear of the established duelling area.

Harry sketched a quick nod towards Snape and got into a traditional duelling position. 

“Three… two… one…” 

The duelling exploded as Harry and Snape both warded away each other’s spells in almost equal capacity. Snape, however, hardly moved, while Harry had to weave and dodge some of the bolts from Snape’s wand. He was clearly a more experienced duellist than Harry, and he seemed almost bored at first. 

Still, Harry didn’t get hit by a single jinx or charm, whether he dodged or blocked them. The duel moved on and soon Snape was becoming visibly frustrated at being unable to conclude the duel with the restricted list of spells they had agreed to. Harry noticed that Snape’s expression turned mocking, and then there was a new type of spell being thrown at him, a jet of blue-green fire fanning towards him and spilling over his shield. Harry didn’t reflect the next one but decided that it was better to dodge.

 _So we are breaking the rules,_ Harry thought, as he waved his wand and two desks turned into wolves and pounced towards Snape. 

Snape easily deflected them, letting their whimper show they were out of the contest.

Harry transfigured the floor to become uneven under Snape as he flung a desk in front of himself to take the jinx, which blasted it to pieces. Both Harry and Snape were using more and more lethal spells as their duel progressed. One mistake could get either of them seriously hurt. 

Harry dodged one last curse before yielding.

“I surrender,” Harry said as he dodged another jinx.

Snape snorted for a second but was grudgingly impressed at the boy’s prowess. 

“Why did you surrender, Potter?” Snape asked.

“I didn’t want to be late for my next class, sir,” Harry said, bringing attention to the fact that their duel had lasted for half an hour.

“I want all of you to be able to silently perform the Disarming Charm and Stinging Jinx as well as the Shield Charm before our next class, the ones who fail to perform them will write an essay on why they failed to manage these simplest of things,” Snape said as he dismissed the class.

No one mentioned that their duel had gone way past the initial limits they had set. 

“That was wicked,” Ron murmured to Harry they left the classroom. “I knew you were good, but that? _Bugger!_ ” 

Harry shrugged. 

“Harry has been training every day over the summer,” Susan said. “You didn’t even go full out there did you?” 

Harry didn’t say anything but just smiled at her. Malfoy sent him a dark glare as he walked past them. 

Harry didn’t bother replying. If this didn’t make the point come across to Malfoy then nothing would.

“What do you mean Harry trained all summer?” Hermione asked. “I thought you couldn’t do magic outside of school.”

“The Trace? It’s a load of codswallop,” Harry said. “Also my apartment is under a fidelius charm, so it’s unplottable.” 

“Really?” Hermione’s eyes were sparkling with interest. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “So I have been training with my guardian and Susan, mostly. Sometimes Susan’s aunt as well.”

“Why did you meet with Susan?” Hermione frowned. 

“Erm… we live together,” Harry said. “Her aunt married my godfather, and since we didn’t know who inherited his property after he died, they moved in with me and my guardian, Tonks.” 

“Oh,” Hermione said, clearly plotting that all out in her head. 

“Nothing happened between me and Harry,” Susan said. “If that is what you were wondering.”

“No, no,” Hermione said quickly. “I just couldn’t understand why you would live together, that’s all.”

“I have a girlfriend,” Susan said with a smile. “Sorry, Harry but you really aren’t my type.” 

“That’s okay,” Harry laughed. “Such a shame though. What guy would say no to the affections of such a beautiful witch.”

Harry didn’t look at Hermione to see her reaction, it was enough to see Ron’s.

“What are you playing at mate?” Ron asked him angrily. “Show some respect.”

Harry finally looked at Hermione for her to make a decision on how they should tell people.

Hermione hesitated before finally gathering her courage. 

“Harry and I are no longer together,” she said quietly. “It’s fine. But thanks for considering my feelings, Ronald.”

“Wait, really?” Ron seemed stunned. “You mean he—”

“I broke up with Harry,” Hermione said quickly. A brief silence followed.

“Better for both of us. Satisfied, Ron?” Harry asked icily. “Now if you will excuse me.”

Harry rushed off leaving them all behind, he ducked into an alcove and threw the invisibility cloak over his head as he headed to the Great Hall. It would be easier to just sit at another table. Maybe he could even disguise himself. That could work. Nobody would care so much if his looks were different.

He found a seat at one end of the Ravenclaw table. He thought since he hardly knew anyone in the house, they would leave him alone, but he saw Luna sit down in front of him.

“Hello, Harry,” she said.

“Hi, Luna,” Harry replied.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Luna asked.

“Well I think it will be official news by the time dinner ends anyway, Hermione broke up with me. Didn’t really feel like being the center of attention over at the Gryffindor table.”

“I see,” Luna said.

“Not surprised?” Harry asked.

“Not in the slightest,” Luna said. 

Harry grimaced at that.

“Why?” 

“She isn’t her anymore, so she wouldn’t be with you,” Luna said sadly. “Maybe she will, but not at present.”

“I know,” Harry groaned as he dug into his dinner. 

“She does look sad, however,” Luna said. 

“What do you mean?” 

“She looks sad about it,” Luna said. “Not that it changes anything, but she is sad.”

“I see,” Harry felt a pang of guilt in his chest once more. “It is probably for the best.”

“Many things that are for the best still hurt, Harry,” Luna said with an impressively serious tone.

Harry noticed Jack Sloper, who had been a beater for the Gryffindor Team last year talking to Ron and Hermione. He looked indecisive. 

“Hey Luna,” Harry said. “Could you go over to Ron and Hermione and see if he is looking for me?” 

“Sure thing Harry,” Luna said dreamily as she walked over to the Gryffindor Table. Harry noticed that she was bringing back Sloper to the Ravenclaw table. 

Harry sighed. 

“Harry,” Jack said surprised. “Why are you sitting over here?” 

“Some peace and quiet,” Harry said. “I guess you heard the news just now?”

“Uhm … Yeah,” Jack said. “Here this is for you.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said, grabbing the parchment and put it directly into his pocket. He could look at it later. 

“When are Quidditch Tryouts, then?” Jack asked.

“I was thinking this weekend,” Harry said. “Not sure if Saturday or Sunday yet.” 

“Wicked. See you then.”

Harry felt a headache coming over him, as he was quite unsure whether Jack would make the team this year.

“You are not going to read your note?” Luna asked. 

“I can do it when I’m alone,” Harry said with uncalled-for curtness. Luna, however, seemed unfazed.

“Okay,” Luna said. 

Harry quickly finished dinner and moved out of the Great Hall and found another class room where he ducked under the Invisibility Cloak and went to the library. He knew this wasn’t a practical long-term solution but he just needed some time alone. 

He unrolled the parchment he had been given earlier, and recognized the thin, slanting writing on it. Dumbledore was summoning him to begin their private study starting Saturday evening after dinner, and had included the password to bypass the stone argyle which secured his office: “Acid Pops.”

Harry chuckled to himself; at least he would finally know what these lessons would be about. He burned the note, a habit he had picked it up over the summer. He cast several privacy charms and another Notice-Me-Not before getting to work. Harry felt fatigue washing over him by the time he had finished his accompanying essay to the rune cluster explaining his thought process and its likelihood of working. He waited for the ink to dry and rolled it up before heading back to the Gryffindor Tower. He entered the dormitory.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, who else?” Harry muttered.

“Heard the news. Hard luck, mate,” Dean commiserated.

“Already spread this far huh,” Harry said. “Yeah, it’s true. I’m tired.”

He undressed and fell into his bed. Another swing of his wand and the curtains were pulled together and a few silencing charms kept all noise out. 


	18. Cinnamon and Lavender, Potions and Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and friends are challenged in their first O.W.L.-level Potions class, but they make it through with a little help from an old textbook.
> 
> Harry, Hermione, and Ginny brave the clutching embrace of Horace Slughorn's social circle.
> 
> Harry begins to suspect that he has neglected Hermione in some serious ways during their relationship.
> 
> Harry dreads an appointment with Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the many, many delays. This chapter needed MUCH revision, both for originality and for continuity. You'd think if it was too "copy-paste" it would have continuity at least, but alas, no.
> 
> I continue to slog along and appreciate your patience and support.
> 
> Best  
> Killjoy

**Chapter 18 Cinnamon and Lavender, Potions and Parties**

Harry woke up the next morning feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time. He quickly got up and walked downstairs to start his usual training regimen, which was necessary for Harry to wake up as coffee was for Tonks. He ran a couple of laps around the grounds before he headed back inside. 

He quickly went upstairs when he noticed the different girls looking at him. 

Great, Harry thought, just what I needed, another group of fangirls.

Harry didn’t make it to the Gryffindor common room before being blocked by a group of witches. One of them stood in front.

“Hello, Harry,” she said. “My name’s Romilda Vane, and I was thinking of asking you to eat with us?”

“Sorry,” Harry said, trying to get around the group which blocked him. “I really need a shower right now.” 

“We will be waiting for you downstairs,” Romilda said.

“No need,” Harry said quickly. “I promised to eat with my friend.” Secretly thinking to himself that he would have to apologise to Susan for doing this.

“Another time then,” Romilda said without looking too upset.

Harry passed the corridor before letting out a groan quite similar to a Hippogriff with a severe stomach ache. He opened up the portrait and began walking toward the dormitories.

“Harry?” He heard Hermione’s voice behind him.

“Yeah?” Harry asked.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Still the same old Hermione, concerned about everyone around you, Harry sighed inwardly.

“I would be lying if I said, I was,” Harry sighed. “Look, there is nothing you or I can do about it right now. I really just need time to accept that everything has changed.”

“I…” 

“Don’t,” Harry interrupted, probably a little more sharply than intended. “You did nothing wrong, it just hurts. I will be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” Hermione said, looking both pensive and sorry.

“The worst part about it is having to deal with fangirls again,” Harry tried to joke.

“Really?” Hermione looked shocked.

“Yup,” Harry smiled and emphasised the ‘p’. 

He went through the door and headed straight to the shower. The smile he had forcefully put on his face was gone. He felt the water hit his face and was happy that no one but him knew where shower stopped and tears began.

He found himself the target of a multitude of different gazes in the Great Hall. A good many of them looked at him with pity, while another group looked at him with mocking glee, mostly from the Slytherin table, and lastly the not so small group of girls who were less than subtle about their flirting. Harry looked towards the Gryffindor Table and found Hermione and Ron in deep conversation. He looked towards the Ravenclaw table and saw Neville and Luna with their heads together in intense rapport. He decided that it would be better to sit with Susan, so he headed towards her and spotted Ginny next to her. 

“Morning, ladies,” Harry said with a strained smile. 

“Good morning,” Susan said. 

“They are really looking hungry,” Ginny commented as Harry poured himself a bowl of porridge. 

“What do you mean?” Susan asked.

“At least half the single girls in fourth through seventh year are looking at Harry right now,” Ginny said.

“Please, don’t remind me,” Harry said. “I don’t see why they’re like this.”

“Ugh,” Ginny groaned. “Sometimes you are too oblivious for your own good.”

“Oi,” Harry said. “I’m not oblivious.”

“You really are, Harry,” Susan teased. 

Harry sighed, but then smiled at least these two didn’t treat him differently, which was something. 

“Arithmancy first thing in the morning,” Harry looked at his timetable. “Then Potions after lunch.”

“Well, I am going to spend the morning practising for Snape’s Defence class,” Susan said. “Any pointers?” 

“It’s all about intent,” Harry said. “Visualising the incantation works to focus it, but take the stinging jinx, you need to want to sting them when you wave your wand. Same with the Shield Charm, you need to want to form a shield.”

“Right,” Susan said. “Thank you. You really are a good teacher, you know that.”

“You flatter me,” Harry said as he finished off his bowl of porridge. “Ginny, don’t let the O.W.L. year get you down, and if you feel like getting some tutoring, I am more than happy to help, Susan too, I imagine.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Ginny said. “But one tutor is more than enough for me, and honestly I don’t feel like having your fangirls hate me for spending time with you.”

“Right,” Harry grimaced. “Well, see you at lunch.”

Harry moved towards the Arithmancy classroom a little before class to avoid the students still in the Great Hall. He found the classroom door open, and Harry walked in to grab a seat near the wall and picked up his books from his bag. He idly opened one of them up in the middle and continued to read off from where he left it.

He noticed when people began shuffling into the classroom. There weren’t many people left in the class as most people would focus on their core subjects when starting N.E.W.T. levels.

Harry heard a heavy bag being plopped down on the table next to him. He looked up to see Hermione’s brown hair.

“Are you actively trying to avoid me?” Hermione asked.

“No, no,” Harry lied quickly. “I just had a promise with Susan.” 

“Oh, okay,” Hermione said. 

“I didn’t imagine that you would be able to surpass me in just a summer,” Harry said. “I only managed to get an E on my Arithmancy exam.”

Hermione looked decidedly smug at the compliment. 

“It’s such an interesting subject, you know,” Hermione said. “The math and the magic and how it works together to predict probability, it’s just very fascinating.”

Harry chuckled to himself. 

“I have said that before haven’t I?” Hermione frowned.

“Maybe,” Harry teased. “It’s fine, you were absolutely brilliant before, I am sure you are brilliant again. It is pretty much all to your credit that I can sit here. Not that good with the mental calculations.”

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “It is absolutely criminal that we can’t use a calculator or any other electronics at Hogwarts, apparently magic fries the circuitry.”

“That’s what I heard as well,” Harry smiled. 

Professor Vector joined the class and began speaking about what they were going to be taught in their N.E.W.T.-course. Before and the class ended with her giving them another load of homework. 

“Ronald wasn’t kidding,” Hermione said. “There is a lot of homework.”

“This is probably still nothing to you,” Harry said as they walked down towards lunch. “How is your Runes homework coming along?” 

“Okay, I think,” Hermione said. “It’s a lot more complicated going from theory and translations to actually make a functioning rune cluster.”

“You will get it in no time,” Harry encouraged. “I’m sure of it.”

“How can you be so sure?” Hermione stopped and asked.

“Even if you don’t remember, I spent a long time together with you,” Harry said sadly. “I feel like I know you pretty well. You are stubborn and a perfectionist, and it makes you a more accomplished student than me.”

Hermione nodded, and there was even a little spring in her step. 

“Look, I really am sorry,” she said. 

“Don’t be,” Harry said. “You just need to work on getting back to speed, there is no need for you to worry about me too.”

Hermione sent him a glance, but Harry had long since perfected his ‘I’m Okay’ face, and you had to really know him to be able to see through it. The number of people being able to do that was dwindling fast. 

Harry went towards the Hufflepuff table once more and sat next to Susan. He was rather surprised, though when Hermione sat on the opposite side of the table.

“Erm…” Harry said. 

“What? If you can sit here then so can I,” Hermione said. 

“Right,” Harry said. 

Susan was having a hard time hiding her pity for Harry. She looked at him and asked with her eyes.

Do I need to talk to her and make her understand?

No need, Harry’s eyes seemed to say.

“So, how does it feel to be back?” Susan asked. 

“It feels odd,” Hermione admitted. “But also wonderful. Magic really is interesting. There are so many things I want to learn and get better at.”

“Well that sounds very much like you are back on track,” Susan said. 

“It feels like things are tugging at my memories,” Hermione said. “I was right to come back here. Healer Lewis had a theory, that being in the place where a lot of my lost memories were made would somehow help me in regaining them.”

“That’s promising,” Susan said, as she looked at Harry. 

She couldn’t quite tell what he felt about that information, but she was certain it had an impact. I need to get Auntie to teach me how to read Harry, Susan thought to herself. 

Harry didn’t say much during lunch and just lightly nodding and smiling at the two girls’ conversation. 

They had only just finished eating when it was time for the afternoon’s double Potions, so they made their way to the dungeons, to a classroom they would probably always think of as Snape’s potions lab.

Harry, Susan, and Hermione were joined by Ron, who had finished lunch with the Gryffindors. Arriving, they saw that only thirteen students were moving on to N.E.W.T. level. Four Slytherins had made it through, excluding the odious Crabbe and Goyle but including Malfoy. Four Ravenclaws were there, but Susan and a boy named Ernie McMillan were the only Hufflepuff representatives, alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione from Gryffindor.

Unlike Snape, who had always managed a dramatic entrance, Slughorn merely opened the door and invited them in, back-pedalling as the students navigated around his rather bulky form into the brightly lit room. Slughorn tugged absently at his substantial walrus moustaches he greeted Harry and Zabini with particular enthusiasm. 

Most unusually, the dungeon was already full of vapours and odd smells, they sniffed interestedly as they passed large, bubbling cauldrons. The Slytherins took a table together, as did the Ravenclaws. This left McMillan alongside Harry, Susan, Ron, and Hermione to crowd around the last table. They found themselves seated nearest to a gold-coloured cauldron that was emitting one of the most seductive scents Harry had ever inhaled. Somehow it reminded him simultaneously of cinnamon and lavender, overlaid with a faint a hint of mint and oranges. There were impressions of a person’s earthy smell after a workout with an after-note of ink and parchment. _Amortentia_ , Harry shuddered as he clamped his nose. He spotted Ron with a silly smile on his face. Susan wasn’t doing much better, and Hermione had turned bright red. 

“Now then,” intoned Slughorn through the many shimmering vapours. “Advanced Potion-Making, standard kits, now.” 

“Sir?” said Harry, raising his hand.

“Harry, m’boy?” 

“My friends haven’t got a book or scales or anything, they didn’t realise they’d be able to do the N.E.W.T.-level course, you see—”

“Of course, Professor McGonagall did mention…not to worry, not to worry at all. They can use ingredients from the store cupboards today, and I’m sure we can lend them some scales. I have a small stock of older texts here. They should do until you can send off for one of your own…” After a moment foraging in his cabinets, he emerged with two very battered copies of _Advanced Potion-Making_ which he gave to Hermione and Ron. Harry and Susan each contributed some supplies and there was soon enough material for each student for the day.

Professor Slughorn gathered their attention and explained that the cauldrons around the classroom contained various common N.E.W.T.-level potions. He hoped that, even if they could not yet brew these potions, they would identify them and possibly share something of their nature and preparation with the class. The task was challenging but not impossible, a fitting start to their higher-level study of potion-brewing.

“Now, who can tell the class what this potion is?” 

Slughorn gestured toward the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Harry saw what looked like ordinary water boiling away inside it. He instantly raised his hand.

“Harry?”

“ _Veritaserum_ , Professor, also known as truth serum—though it is fallible as both Occlumency and the antidote for it makes the drinker of it able to lie. It is also possible to tell half-truths as they aren’t technically lies,” Harry said. 

“A very Auror-like perspective,” Slughorn praised. “That is indeed correct, as it works similarly to a strong confundus spell which instigates the person to tell the truth; however, it can indeed be fought or tricked.”

“Now,” he continued, pointing to the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, “this one is fairly well known… If I recall, it’s been featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too. Does anyone—?”

Hermione’s hand was the fastest this time.

“That would be Polyjuice Potion, Professor,” she said.

Harry had also recognised the slow-bubbling, mud-like substance in the second cauldron, but he did not resent Hermione answering the question; she, after all, was the one who had succeeded in making it back in their second year. 

“Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here…” Slughorn looked out in the class, his words hanging expectantly in the air. 

Harry reluctantly raised his hand, as did both Hermione and Ron.

Slughorn beamed at Harry.

“It’s _Amortentia_ , sir,” Harry grimaced. “Nasty stuff.”

“Some would say so, yes indeed,” said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed. “I assume you can tell everyone what it does?”

Harry looked at Hermione.

“It’s supposed to be the most powerful love potion in the world,” Ron said quietly. He’d felt the effects of more than one love potion first-hand before when his brothers were testing their products, and something as powerful as _Amortentia_ frankly scared him.

“Quite right! You recognised its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?”

Ron nodded silently.

“Also the steam rising in characteristic spirals,” added Hermione enthusiastically.

“Excellent! And you, Harry?” 

“I noticed the smell, which is supposedly whatever I find most attractive.” 

Harry felt that every female in the room looked at him at that instant.

“Go on?” Slughorn looked like he was having a field day.

Harry groaned as he mechanically listed the elements that had caught his nose.

“Cinnamon, lavender; fainter notes of orange and mint,” Harry said. He added quickly, “Er, I’ll not say more than that.”

“Wise,” Slughorn said. “May I ask your name, my dear?” 

“Hermione Granger, Professor.”

“Granger? As in Hector Dagworth-Granger? The famous potion-master of Kent?”

“No. I don’t believe so, sir. My parents are both Muggles, sir.”

Harry saw Malfoy and Nott whispering and sniggering, but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked at Hermione.

“I have had more than one Muggle-born student who ended up being the best in her year,” Slughorn said. “Harry’s mother was one of them, an absolute genius with a cauldron. You must be the latest heir to her position. Take ten points to Gryffindor.”

“Now then, _Amortentia_ doesn’t really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate real love. Like lasting death, real love is beyond the reach of even the most powerful magics. The potion can cause a powerful infatuation, nearing obsession, however. It is quite possibly the most dangerous potion in the classroom,” he said, raising an eyebrow archly at Malfoy and Nott who were openly smirking with scepticism. “When you have seen as much of life as I, my boys, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love.” 

Harry shuddered to think about what could happen if a student got their hands on it. Especially some of the more predatory girls, looking to snare The Chosen One.

Maybe I should start drinking from my own flask like Moody, Harry thought.

“And on that note,” said Slughorn, “it is time for you all to start your work.”

One potion, in a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn’s desk, had not been discussed. Ernie pointed this out, and Slughorn gave a performance of surprise worthy of a Christmas pantomime.

“Oho,” chuckled Slughorn. Harry was sure that Slughorn had waited to be asked for dramatic effect, and he was smiling it for all it was worth. “Yes. This is a rare and precious little concoction known as _Felix Felicis_.” He turned to Hermione, who had gasped at the name, “And what does _Felix Felicis_ do, Miss Granger?” 

“It’s liquid luck,” said Hermione excitedly. “Incredibly difficult to brew, and there are all sorts of regulations on its production and use!”

The whole class seemed to bee paying undivided. attention. 

“Yes, well done.” Slughorn mused on as if lost in thought, “Terribly troublesome to brew, with disastrous consequences for failure. However, when brewed correctly it will… Let me just suggest that all your actions will tend to have the best possible result, at least until the effects wear off.”

“Well then, why wouldn’t people drink it all the time, Professor?” asked Terry Boot in disbelief. 

“There is a finalise between boundless good fortune and giddy recklessness, my boy,” said Slughorn. “Dangerous overconfidence. Too much of a good thing. Besides, unless taken very sparingly, it’s a deadly toxin. Did I not mention that?” 

“Have you ever taken it, sir?” asked a quiet voice from somewhere near the back of the class. 

“Twice,” said Slughorn. “Two perfect days. Once as a young man, and again some decades later.” He gazed thoughtfully into the distance, although he was legitimately bemused or acting up for the class, Harry could not say for certain. 

Slughorn sighed, and shook himself, apparently coming back to the present. “One tiny bottle of this potion, enough for 12 hours’ luck, is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson.” 

There was silence in which every summerly bubble of the surrounding potions seemed magnified, and each student swore their own heartbeats must be audible to all. 

“Fair warning! _Felix Felicis_ is a banned substance. Sporting events, examinations, elections and so forth. So the winner is honour-bound to use it only for an ordinary day. And with a little help from _Felix_ , that day should become extraordinary.” 

“So,” said Slughorn, suddenly businesslike, “I would ask you to turn now to page ten of _Advanced Potion Making_. We have a little over an hour which should be time for you to make a solid go at the _Draught of Living Death_. I know it is rather more complex than what you have attempted before, so I do not expect a perfect potion. The person who does best, however, will win little _Felix_ here. Off you go!” 

Everyone turned their attention to their stations, but nobody spoke. Malfoy was thumbing feverishly through his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_. It could not have been clearer that he wanted that liquid luck. Others around the room were similarly focused.

Harry bent swiftly down over his own copy of the textbook.

He heard a groan from the other side of the table and looked up.

“What?” he whispered. 

“Someone has scribbled all over this book,” Hermione said in disgust.

Harry looked across the table and found that, indeed, it was heavily annotated in a dark, archly incisive script.

“May I see?” Harry asked quietly. “We can compare the two books if you and Susan swap seats.”

Susan looked at him quizzically but gave a nod towards Hermione if she wanted to. Hermione looked ever-grateful as they swapped seats.

Harry pulled his copy into the middle between them, placing it over Hermione’s old tattered one.

Harry quickly checked the ingredients list and compared the two. The more he thought about the differences, the more he was impressed by the original owner. The official recipe seemed incredibly compromised to anyone who had studied ingredients interactions. 

“Your revised recipe is tons better,” Harry said. “Let me copy it later.” 

“Really?” Hermione said in shock. “But the official—”

“—Is seriously flawed compared to that one,” Harry said, pointing at the tattered book. “Trust me? And grab your ingredients.”

Harry read further down the page and was legitimately impressed by the alterations from the original owner. It was actually genius.

He began following the revised recipe and compared the differences as he got further along. 

“You are not following the original,” Hermione reproved. 

“Don’t let your love of authority get in the way of something better,” Harry said as he worked quickly. 

He noticed that Hermione was now following the same revised recipe as he did. He looked up, and they were now far ahead of the rest of the class. Harry was a little further, but that was only because he was a step ahead of Hermione. 

“Professor Slughorn, I believe you knew my grandfather? Abraxas Malfoy?” Harry looked up at the unctuous voice Malfoy used with Professors he was trying to impress. 

“Yes,” said Slughorn, passing without a glance, “So sorry to hear of his passing. To be expected, though. Dragon pox, at his age…” 

Harry repressed a smirk as he continued his work. Clearly, Malfoy had expected to be treated like Harry or Zabini; perhaps he even hoped for the preferential treatment he had been given by Snape. It looked as talent would be Malfoy’s only resource to win the bottle of _Felix Felicis_.

Harry noticed a spidery annotation next to the instructions in his text for the sopophorous bean.

_Crush with the flat side of silver dagger: releases juice better than cutting._

Harry thought about the ingredients’ properties and remembered that the bean’s internal structure was filled with tiny sacks of liquid, which might not be punctured if he just cut it. 

He crushed the bean and saw the juices flowing out of it.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Look up the internal structure of the ingredient later,” Harry said quickly as he added the juice to his potion, which turned a light shade of lilac. 

He looked down at the older textbook once more and noticed a difference once again. The previous owner added a clockwise stir to the recipe. 

Harry felt apprehensive. He was already ahead of everyone else. 

_Do I risk it? Will the previous owner be right twice?_

Harry boldly added the clockwise stir like a real Gryffindor, and he noticed an immediate difference.

It was the last part of the recipe, so he just kept stirring in the new way. Hermione was looking half annoyed and half impressed that the previous owner improved the original recipe. She was soon following behind, and their potions remained far ahead of the rest of the class. 

“And time’s…up!” called Slughorn. “Hands down. Stop stirring, please!” 

Slughorn meandered curiously among the tables, peering carefully into cauldrons. The large man moved with surprising delicacy and grace around the simmering vessels on each potions table but made no comment. Occasionally gave the potions a judicious sniff. At last, he reached Harry and the others’ table. He nodded over Ron’s navy concoction and Susan’s potion, testing the viscosity of Ron’s brew with a spoon, yielding an approving smile. Then he saw Harry’s and Hermione’s work, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.

“Well, well, well,” Professor Slughorn said. “I did not expect for there to be two equally brilliant concoctions in my class. Well, to whom am I to give the prize?”

“Give it to Hermione,” Harry said. “Our results seem identical, and maybe she deserves a little bit of luck.”

Hermione seemed about to protest but then gave Harry a brief smile as she accepted the small bottle. 

“Excellent, excellent,” Professor Slughorn said. “Well, I must say, Harry, you really do have your mother’s talent at potions. She was a dab hand. Well done, both of you!”

Harry almost felt sick with Slughorn’s apparent favouritism. He waved away the compliment in an off-handed manner. 

The class gathered their used tools and left-over ingredients. Harry watched as Hermione took the tattered book and slid it into her book bag. He was eager to further study the different annotations it included. 

Harry was just about to follow his group outside.

“Harry, Miss Granger,” Slughorn said. “One moment, please! Mr Zabini, as well.”

Harry turned.

“I have decided to resume my custom having my own social gatherings, just a chosen few, from time to time,” Slughorn said. “I was planning to have a small get together on Saturday, just around dinner.” 

Harry felt a headache coming on, as he already had his private lesson with Dumbledore on Saturday.

Horace has a memory that could be vital to defeating Voldemort, Dumbledore’s voice sounded in his head.

“I would love to join, Professor,” Harry said, plastering the best smile he could muster on his face. “I am afraid I will be occupied at eight o’clock afterwards, though.”

“No problem at all, my dear boy,” Slughorn said. “Dinner will be around six, so if you all three could show up at my private quarters then?”

Harry nodded and turned around. He heard Hermione following behind him as well as the steps of Blaise Zabini. 

When they left the dungeon, Hermione pulled on Harry’s arm.

“This is _cheating_ ,” she said as she dug the old tattered book from her bag.

“I don’t think so,” Harry said. “I would love to have it if you want to swap; it would be excellent self-study. The thinking of the notes in the book appear far more advanced than the usual copy.”

Hermione hesitated.

“Is that why you gave the reward to me?” she asked. “So you could demand the book from me?”

Harry frowned.

“Do you really think so little of me?” Harry said, scarcely concealing the hurt. “You know what? Don’t answer that.” 

Harry quickly sped off, leaving Hermione even more conflicted than she had been for accepting the prize in the first place.

Harry didn’t bother going to the Great Hall. He walked directly towards the kitchens. He had been there enough to know that he would at least be offered something, and Dobby would be more than happy to see him. 

Harry tickled the pear on the portrait and walked into the kitchen. He was soon surrounded by a horde of elves.

“Is Dobby here?” Harry asked.

“Dobby is working hard,” one of the elves said. 

“Is it a bad time? I can wait?” Harry asked.

“It’s dinner time,” another elf said. 

“Of course! Sorry to bother you during the rush,” Harry said and began to turn for the exit. 

“Filthy master Potter,” Harry heard an old voice say. “Is there something you wish of this lowly servant?” 

Harry had forgotten entirely that Kreacher was staying at the castle.

“Something to eat, please?” Harry asked politely, making Kreacher scowl further, if possible. 

He watched as Kreacher went to get a plate for him.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Harry said with a sad smile. 

“It is nothing,” Kreacher croaked as he walked away once more, grumbling and muttering.

Harry took the provided plate of sandwiches and headed to the Astronomy tower once again. He finished the plate and called for Kreacher to bring it back to the kitchen. As much as he loathed the elf, it was not entirely Kreacher’s fault that Sirius had died. It was just as much Harry’s own fault. Forgiveness was Harry’s inclination, but it would take time.

He sat there, staring out into the distance until it finally began to grow dark. He brushed the crumbs off his jeans from the sandwiches and walked back to the Gryffindor common room. 

The rest of the week followed much the same pace. Each class started by having the teacher explaining the differences from the O.W.L. level. Most of it was actually just non-verbal magic, which Harry didn’t have that many problems with as he had spent the summer getting trained to use it by Tonks and Amelia. 

Saturday arrived, and Harry looked down at the pompous invitation which Slughorn had sent him. He already dreaded attending the dinner but sucked it up because apparently, he needed to get on Slughorn’s good side. 

He donned his dragonskin coat over a nice shirt instead of his usual robes. The invitation had said formal wear, so Harry had interpreted it that way. He spotted Hermione in a pantsuit in the common room, looking rather uncomfortable in her own skin.

“Shall we get this over with?” Harry said. 

“Wait up,” Ginny’s voice came from the staircase to the Girl’s dormitory.

“Ginny?” Harry asked,

“Yeah, you guys are going to Slughorn’s little dinner party, right?” Ginny asked. 

“Well, yeah,” Harry said.

“I got an invitation too,” Ginny said. “Apparently my spell-work on one of the more obtusely forward Ravenclaw boys was impressive enough for Slughorn to invite me. Either that or he’s a Quidditch fan...”

Harry nodded a little bemusedly at that. He opened up the portrait for the two witches to pass through.

“So, what should we expect?” Ginny asked.

“Amelia says he is a collector,” Harry said. “A collector of people. He uses these parties to make connections between himself and students who have the potential to become something great.”

“Oh, really?” Hermione muttered, a little dismayed. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I think it is a rather typical Slytherin approach, but it’s not bad being connected. It can bring you business partners and allies in unseen places. It makes a lot of sense from that perspective. I just wish he didn’t have that look in his eyes like I was a treasure chest filled with galleons. He really isn’t my type.”

That earned him a small chuckle from the two girls as they walked down into the dungeons. 

Harry knocked on the door and soon found a full table with delicious food. Harry noticed Blaise Zabini sitting there as well, looking relatively uninterested in the gathering.

“Harry!” Slughorn called with glee. “I didn’t expect you to bring two lovely witches to accompany you.”

Harry smiled, but inwardly his ferocious side was growling quietly. Harry had noticed the changes in him since he was aware that his Patronus had changed. He hated to think that he had become tainted by Leo’s ruthlessness and his fondness for hunting. Maybe those traits had been in him all along, and Leo had just found them useful.

“I do not think myself worthy of such beautiful company,” Harry said disarmingly. 

Harry felt a small punch from Ginny, but he didn’t dare look at Hermione’s expression at that moment. 

Slughorn introduced them to a seventh-year named Cormac McLaggen, who they knew casually from Gryffindor, and several other people, the names making little impression on Harry. He was quietly counting down until it was time to leave again. 

“Cormac, are you still friendly with your uncle Tiberius,” Slughorn asked.

“We used to go dragon hunting, but he and my father had a falling out a couple of years back,” McLaggen admitted. 

“Shame,” Slughorn said, instantly losing interest in the boy. He turned his head towards a younger boy, who Harry faintly remembered was called Marcus Belby. 

Harry listened with half an ear and just really played along with whatever was thrown towards him by Slughorn. He stopped caring until the attention was focused on Hermione.

“And dear Miss Granger,” Slughorn said. “What is it that your parents do?”

Harry instantly felt his body tense up. He knew enough about Slughorn to predict where this is going.

“They are dentists,” Hermione said. 

“What did you say?” Slughorn’s smile was fading a little.

“They are Muggle healers,” Harry said. “Rather prestigious in the Muggle World as well. They own their own practice.”

Hermione looked at him with a tiny hint of doubt, but when she spotted the beaming smile on Slughorn’s face, she decided to just roll with it.

“Impressive, impressive indeed,” Slughorn said. “Have you ever yourself thought about being a healer?” 

Harry looked at Hermione in surprise. He had actually never really thought about what Hermione would like to do. To be honest, Harry had rather short-sightedly assumed she would just follow him for the rest of their lives in whatever profession Harry ended up in. Hermione was more than capable of becoming an Auror if she wanted to, but he had actually never asked her. At least, he didn’t remember if he had.

“I don’t know yet,” Hermione said quietly. “I lost five years of memories before the summer, so I haven’t had much chance to think about it.”

“Dreadful!” Slughorn said. “How, child?” 

“I was obliviated. By You-Know-Who, in the battle at the Ministry. At least that is what I have been told,” Hermione said, looking both a little proud and still somewhat scared. 

“Dreadful indeed, dear,” Slughorn said. “I’d heard rumours, of course, but I’m afraid I hadn’t made the connection. Well, that makes it all the more impressive that you have managed to keep on top of your studies.”

“Indeed it is, professor,” Harry said. “Hermione was at the top of our year before summer, and I will bet you ten galleons she will be back at the top of our year by this coming summer as well.”

“I am not a fan of taking a losing bet,” Slughorn chuckled. 

Hermione blushed a little from the compliments. Ginny got a lot of praise for her spell-work, and Slughorn was proudly boasting that he knew Gwenog Jones, the Holyhead Harpies captain, when Ginny mentioned that she wanted to pursue a career in Quidditch. 

Harry checked the time. It was a quarter to eight.

“I am afraid, Professor, that this is where I must leave you all,” Harry said with his most charming smile. “I have a prior appointment waiting for me.”

“Right, look at the time,” Slughorn said, checking the clock himself. “Well, on your way then.”

Harry gave a small gracious bow of his head as he walked out of the room and gave a heavy sigh.

Shit, this is a lot harder than I’d imagined, Harry thought as he rushed towards Professor Dumbledore’s office.

He stood in front of the Gargoyle.

“Acid Pops?” Harry asked more than said, and the Gargoyle stood aside as he walked up the staircase.

He took a deep breath and focused on the heavy door. He would need all of his concentration, as he was determined to not be led by the nose by the old man on the other side. 


	19. The Sad Tale of Merope Gaunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns more than he wished to know about the parentage of Tom Riddle and confronts Dumbledore about both the Headmaster's health and his past lack of openness with Harry.
> 
> Quidditch tryouts. Cormac McLaggen has a temper, Ron has nerves, Harry has a headache.
> 
> Susan and Ginny try to help.
> 
> A rendezvous in the night with an attractive witch.

**Chapter 19: The Sad Tale of Merope Gaunt**

Harry knocked on the heavy oaken door in front of him. 

“Come in, Harry,” Dumbledore said. He welcomed Harry with a tired smile and invited him to sit in one of the delicate-looking chairs before his crowded desk. They made awkwardly casual chitchat for a few minutes about the beginning of term and Harry’s re-adjustment to life at school.

“It was alright,” Harry said. “I’ve gotten ahead in most subjects practically, so it isn’t too hard at the moment.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said, looking him over once more. 

“Ah, the Pensieve?” Harry grimaced, indicating Dumbledore’s wardrobe. “Slughorn’s little club had a dinner tonight, and I assume you want me to gather that special memory through cunning rather than force.”

“Indeed, I do,” Dumbledore said with half a smile, the twinkle not quite reaching his eyes.

“So, then,” said Dumbledore, getting down to business, “You must have been curious about what I have planned for you during our time together.”

“I should say so.”

“It’s time I think that I was a bit more forthcoming about your history with Voldemort and his attack on you and your parents.” He paused.

“ _More forthcoming?_ ” Harry looked at him with dry humour. “So, less keeping secrets and fewer distortions or lies ‘for my own good’ is the plan now, is it?” 

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked.

“With Snape around, I am surprised your hand still couldn’t be fixed. I’m guessing powerful cursework. You’re running out of time, aren’t you, Professor?” Harry asked.

“We are all in a certain way running out of time,” Dumbledore said. 

“How long do you have, sir?” Harry asked. 

“I don’t know,” Dumbledore admitted. “Long enough, one hopes.”

Harry was moved by the older wizard’s frank admission but didn’t say anything more. 

“In our previous discussions, I have told you, or you have discovered, all I know for certain about our mutual foe’s history and actions. We now enter the realm of interpretation and the battle between Occlumency and Legilimency to discover memories hidden, lost, or intentionally clouded.” Dumbledore said. “I think I know where we must look and which versions of events are most likely true, but I am not perfect. I have been mistaken before.”

“And I have been wrong as well,” admitted Harry with some difficulty. “I grant you that trusting you at your word is difficult, but I’m willing to work with you on this and see where it takes us.”

“That means a great deal to me, Harry. While I admit that my attention has always been on the greater good, I will not deny that you have become an impressive wizard and a fine student. I hope that in the future, my focus on future events during your early life will not stand in the way of you seeing me as an ally.” 

“As I said, trust is difficult,” Harry said. “But I need information, and ideally some sort of advantage if I am going to defeat Voldemort and save myself and my friends. It’s worth the risk.”

“Fair enough,” said Dumbledore, “and I certainly hope that we will find you the advantage you require.” 

Dumbledore motioned with his wand, and the doors to a dark wood cabinet opened, revealing the familiar shallow stone Pensieve. He gestured to it, and Harry placed it between them on the Headmaster’s desk.

Harry’s eyebrows lifted.

“No need for alarm, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s alarm, Professor. I just know how intrusive it can be to watch other people’s memories,” Harry frowned.

“This time, you have permission to see these,” Dumbledore said.

 _Permission from whom?_ Harry wondered. 

As if answering the question in Harry’s mind, Dumbledore said, “These are the memories of an Auror, or rather, an official at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, named Bob Ogden.” He emptied the viscous white substance of memory into the Pensive from a small bottle. 

“Bob Ogden?”

Dumbledore looked at the basin wistfully for a moment. “A fine student, Bob, in his day. Very fond of jokes and puns, quite clever. He died some time ago, I'm afraid. Not before he had come to me and insisted that I allow him to confide these recollections to me. He knew they were important, but the time neither of us were certain as to how they related to the questions at hand.” 

Harry and Dumbledore entered into the memory, plunging their faces into the Pensieve and arriving on a sunny country lane. High, tangled hedgerows arched overhead, but the summer sun showed brightly through, casting a patchwork pattern on the road.

Harry watched as the ministry man began his fateful interaction with the Gaunts, the flap of the butterfly’s wing, which would lead to the inexorable chain of events. Merope Gaunt’s emancipation, her seduction of the Muggle Riddle family’s scion, and the tragic conception of Tom Marvolo Riddle, self-styled Lord Voldemort.

“That was… a lot to take in,” Harry said, slumping in his seat as they emerged from the Pensieve. Dumbledore nodded sourly, settling heavily into his high-backed chair.

“Marvolo, Morfin, and Merope were the last of the Gaunts, one of several wizarding families who happened to reach their end around that time.” Dumbledore lowered himself gracelessly into his chair, very much showing his age for once. His eyes, however, were clear, and his voice steady. “It may have been a coincidence, but at the time, there was an oppressive feeling of things coming to an end, of old ways passing. Young Tom played on that with his so-called pureblood followers, you can be certain.”

“Merope must have done something,” Harry thought back to his Potions class. “She didn’t?! A love potion?”

“I’m afraid everything points to that,” Dumbledore sighed. 

Harry shuddered. “That’s vile. Can a love potion even work that long, that well?”

“She must have been rather desperate. You must remember, she had been terribly abused,” Dumbledore said. 

“Not likely to forget,” Harry muttered darkly. “But even at my worst, I don’t think I could have done that, to steal a person’s will away. It should be Unforgivable, like the _Imperious_.”

Dumbledore looked thoughtful at that comment. 

“Don’t be so certain what you might have done, Harry. You were never so alone, so hopeless as Merope Gaunt.”

“I had Leo, I suppose,” Harry mused. “Maybe that was it.”

They sat quietly together for a moment, each letting his mind wander where it would as they thought about what they had learned.

“And Merope? She…she died, didn’t she? Voldemort was brought up in an orphanage?” 

“Yes, indeed,” said Dumbledore. 

“What went wrong?” asked Harry. “Why did the love potion stop working?” 

“I believe that Merope made a choice to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps she thought he had grown into true love or that he would stay for the baby’s sake. Either way, he left her, never to return nor trouble to discover what became of his child.” 

The lamps in Dumbledore’s office seemed to glow more brightly, as the sky outside had turned inky black.

“I think that will do for this evening, Harry. I'm afraid it's getting late,” said the Headmaster said after a few moments of reflective silence between them.

“Yes, Professor,” said Harry.

He got to his feet but did not leave. 

“Sir… It’s important to know all this? About Voldemort’s past?” 

“Very important, I think,” said Dumbledore. 

“Right,” said Harry. “And when will this start making sense?”

“When we have Slughorn’s memory, I hope,” Dumbledore said honestly. “But it will have to wait. I have more to show you first.”

Harry nodded, grabbed his dragon-skin coat and was just about to walk out the door.

“Marvolo’s ring,” Harry said, turning back to the Headmaster. “You wore it on the night we went to convince Slughorn.”

“I did indeed,” Dumbledore said. 

“But something happened—It was the cause of your injury,” Harry said, looking sharply at the man.

“Another time, Harry. Goodnight.”

Harry walked out of Dumbledore’s office. He cast a quick time-charm and saw that it was past curfew. He felt dirty for looking at Ogden’s memories. He felt even worse thinking about their content. He thought about Merope Gaunt’s desperate actions. 

He felt the whole memory churning inside his head.

Before I would have been able to talk to Hermione about this, Harry sighed to himself.

He opened up the Marauder’s Map—he didn’t want to run into anyone on his way back. He traced his path back to the Gryffindor common room and saw Hermione and Ginny sitting in there.

“Okay, not going back just yet then,” Harry said. He looked for a place where he could be alone. He regretfully spotted Filch walking around the Astronomy tower. 

“That’s out of the question,” Harry muttered to himself. “Guess I’ll head outside.”

He quickly glanced over the map before pulling on his invisibility cloak and walking outside. The moon was poking out behind some clouds and gave ample enough lighting that Harry could see where he went. He walked alongside the lake as he let the past week flitter through his mind. 

I am still quite interested in that Potion’s book of Hermione’s, he thought. 

Harry sat down, still covered in the cloak next to the same tree from Snape’s memory. It felt fitting to sit here—some sort of ironic, poetic gesture. 

Harry was lost in his thoughts until someone fell over his legs. 

“Ouch, who’s there?” a female voice called.

Harry looked up and was quickly rolled away from the wand, which was pointed in his direction.

“ _Stupefy!_ ”

Harry dodged the red jet of light, and the invisibility cloak fell off his body.

“Wait, wait!” Harry said quickly. “I’m a student at the school!”

“Harry?!” 

“Huh?” Harry finally focused on the person who had tried to stun him. “Tonks?” 

“What the hell are you doing out of bed? And under your cloak!” Tonks reprimanded him, walking directly over to him. “Which summer did Harry Potter almost jinx me after waking up from a nightmare?”

“Wait, what?” Harry said. 

“Answer!” The wand was now firmly fixed on his chest. 

Harry was slowly getting into a fighting position, and with a flick of his wrist, his wand would fly out of the holster wrapped to his right forearm. 

“Summer after my fourth year, first night back at our place,” Harry said. 

“Phew,” Tonks said and lowered her wand. 

Harry flicked his wrist and cast a silent disarming charm at her watching her wand fly out of her hand.

“What did you do that for?!” Tonks looked angry.

“What was the first birthday present I got for Nymphadora Tonks?” Harry asked. 

“It wasn’t one present, but two. Two different sets of soap and shampoos, Orange and Cinnamon,” Tonks said. “Can I have my wand back now?”

Harry threw the wand to her and relaxed his guard.

“Sorry, had to check,” Harry mumbled loud enough for them both to hear. 

“It was the right approach,” Tonks said with a relieved smile. “Also, you could have done a lot worse to me. Now, what are you doing out of bed?”

“Private lesson with Dumbledore,” Harry said. “Lots to think about, and Hermione and Ginny are waiting in the common room for me to get back.”

“So… you guys are going good?” Tonks asked hesitantly.

“Yes and no,” Harry said. “She doesn’t seem to get that I need space to process what happened. She is doing alright in classes. Worked together a couple of times. I just don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you are still avoiding going back to your dormitory because she is waiting for you?” Tonks said. 

“Well, Filch was guarding the Astronomy tower. I sometimes go to talk to Sirius there,” Harry said. 

Harry slumped down next to the tree. He had picked up his cloak and put it in his pocket. 

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, looking up at the now pink-haired witch.

“Patrolling,” Tonks said. “Aurors take turns walking the grounds. The rest are stationed at the gate or at Hogsmeade. The teachers focus on the castle.”

“I see,” Harry said.

Tonks looked at him. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“About what?” Harry said.

“About what is on your mind,” Tonks said, irritated now.

Harry put on his best ‘I’m okay’ face.

“Do not pull that shit with me,” Tonks bonked him on the head. 

“What?” Harry rubbed the spot she had hit.

“Don’t you realise I can see right through you?” Tonks sat down next to him.

“Fine,” Harry said. “It’s just what Dumbledore showed me. Old memory from a guy, Bob Ogden. Showed me Voldemort’s family from before he was born.” 

“I see,” Tonks said. 

Harry breathed in deeply and then began to recall everything he saw and everything he talked to Dumbledore about.

“Holy shit,” Tonks said. “That’s some dark stuff. Voldemort’s mother really drugged a Muggle to rape him?” 

“Dumbledore believes that,” Harry said. “It’s fucked up.”

“Sounds like the whole family was fucked up,” Tonks said.

“I pity her,” Harry said. “Her situation was so similar to mine. Maybe I would have love-potioned someone if I had to stay with the Dursley’s all this time.”

“I don’t think you would,” Tonks said. “You are better than that.”

“Only because I don’t yet know how to brew them,” Harry joked. “Watch out. Maybe I would have used it on you.” 

Tonks bonked him once more on the shoulder.

“That’s not even funny,” she grimaced. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “Want to talk about it?” 

“Not really,” Tonks said. 

“Come on,” Harry leaned against her shoulder. “If I can tell you about my problems, you can tell me about yours.”

“Fine,” Tonks sighed. “Not a word to anyone!”

“Never,” Harry said. 

“I was once made to drink a love-potion. It wasn’t a strong one,” Tonks said with an angry expression. “A guy in Slytherin a couple of years ahead of me, I am not saying his name. It didn’t work. I just suddenly found him incredibly hot. My friends thankfully thought something was wrong with me and took me to Madam Pomfrey. I made sure to never take something from someone I didn’t trust after that.”

Harry hissed.

“That’s fucked up,” Harry said. “Did you ever get him?” 

“Nope,” Tonks said. “It was right after his last year. He denied everything, and Snape… well, needless to say, it didn’t matter all that much. I never saw him again.”

“I’m glad nothing bad happened,” Harry said. “They should be illegal.” 

“Yeah, some of them are,” Tonks said. “I don’t think attraction potions are, though. He just wanted me for my abilities.”

Harry leaned his head back against the tree.

“Shit, that really is messed up,” he said. “Sorry to even joke about something like that.”

“You didn’t know,” Tonks said, getting ready to get up. 

Harry looked at her pink hair as she stood next to him and leaned down to hold out her hand for him to get up. 

“I know this is probably the worst timing, but how do you look without any changes? Like what is your natural look?” Harry asked. 

Harry hadn’t expected Tonks to attack him at his question. He fell hard on his back and got the wind knocked out of him from her sudden shove into his chest. He had to breathe in deeply to get some air into his lungs.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “I didn’t mean to offend you. You didn’t need to attack me like that.”

“I didn’t attack you,” Tonks said from his chest. “I was just startled and fell over my own feet.”

“Ah, I’ve missed the clumsy Tonks,” Harry said with a small laugh. “You were beginning to look way too cool for your own good.”

Tonks raised her head and looked into his eyes. 

Harry helped her up again from his chest and decidedly ignored the sound of Tonks clicking her tongue.

“Look, I shouldn’t have asked,” Harry said with a smile as he got up on his feet. “That was incredibly rude. For all I know, you were born with pink hair, a heart-shaped face and hazel-blue eyes. You are you, no matter how you look.”

Tonks took his hand and got pulled up on her feet.

“I should get back,” Harry said. “Have a good patrol, goodnight, Tonks.”

Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his head and walked back to the castle. He heard a quiet ‘Goodnight’ from behind him, but he didn’t turn around. 

He checked the map once more and found the common room empty. He quietly crept up into his bed and fell asleep. He was happy that he had run into Tonks—well, technically, she had run into his invisible legs, but that wasn’t the point. She was probably the only one left he felt comfortable talking to about Voldemort, the prophecy and the memories Dumbledore was going to show him. He needed to find a way to actually talk to her. He fell into a contented sleep.

Harry woke up early Sunday morning and went for his usual run. He smiled as he looked at the tree where they had sat last night. He still had people he could confide in. He could probably confide in Susan, Ginny, Luna, and Neville, but he wasn’t about to put them in danger by getting them involved. Not again.

He felt his muscles burn by the time he was back at the entrance hall. The castle was still relatively quiet this early in the morning, especially on a Sunday. Harry had put up the notice in the Gryffindor common room that the Quidditch Try-outs would happen later in the day. 

Harry walked through the portrait hole to find an angry Hermione and a conflicted Ginny stand in his way.

“Morning,” Harry scratched his head.

“Where were you last night?” Hermione asked him.

“Dumbledore’s office,” Harry said. 

“What were you doing there?” she asked. 

“Just some private lessons,” Harry said, trying to walk around her. 

“You weren’t back before midnight,” Hermione said as she stepped in front of him.

“Why do you care?” Harry asked. “Look, I’m sorry if you stayed up to wait for me, but you really didn’t have to. I’m a prefect too, remember, I can stay out after curfew.” 

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before moving past him and walking out of the portrait.

Harry looked at Ginny, who looked between him and the portrait. 

“Would you check up on her for me?” Harry asked. 

“Why are you acting like that?” Ginny asked. “We were worried.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry hesitated. “It’s just… I don’t want to…” 

“Look, if you don’t want to say anything, that’s fine… okay, it’s not, but I can’t force it out of you. Hecate’s tits, you can be frustrating, Potter,” Ginny groused.

“I’m really sorry,” Harry said as he moved towards the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. “See you later on the pitch.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ginny’s voice reached his ears before the door closed behind him. 

Harry spent breakfast at the Hufflepuff table, as was of late his usual practice. He casually chatted with Susan and Ginny while trying to ignore the gazes from hopeful girls, Gryffindors who wanted to join the team and a distinct glare from a brown-haired girl. 

By the time Harry reached the Quidditch pitch, jersey on and Firebolt over his shoulder, there was already a group of students standing around. Most had their own brooms as well. 

“I thought we weren’t going to start until eleven,” Harry said as he walked out on the pitch. 

It looked like half of Gryffindor House had turned up, from first-years nervously clutching a selection of the dreadful school brooms to seventh-years who towered over the youngest students, looking coolly intimidating. This older group included a large, wiry-haired boy Harry recalled from Slughorn's party.

“Hullo, Harry,” the lad said confidently, stepping out of the crowd to shake Harry’s hand. “Cormac McLaggen, Keeper.”

“I remember,” Harry said, taking note of the breadth of McLaggen's shoulders and thinking that he could probably block two goal-hoops before even moving. “You weren’t on the team last year?”

“Bunged up in the hospital wing when they held the trials,” said McLaggen, with something of a swagger. “I ate a pound of doxy eggs on a bet. Turned the colour of a cave troll but kept them down until I collected.” 

“Erm, right,” Harry said. “Well, if you could wait over there." 

He pointed over the edge of the pitch, close to where Hermione was surprisingly sitting. 

_Why is she here? She never cared one way or another about sport._

Harry saw a flicker of annoyance pass over McLaggen’s face. Surely he didn't expect preferential treatment because they were both “old Sluggy’s” favourites? Harry shook his head and took a deep breath.

“Alright, LISTEN UP!” Harry shouted out unto the field. “Form a line, first-year to seventh-year, and SHUT IT!”

Harry spotted a lot of the students jumping a bit in fright at him. He watched as they lined up.

“First order of business,” Harry said. “I want to see your ability to stay on a broom.”

Harry split up the people into groups and sent them up so he could watch them fly. That had turned out to have been probably the best idea he had had that morning. The first ten was made up of first-years, and it could not have been more explicit that they had barely flown before, if at all. Only one managed to remain airborne for more than a few seconds, and he was so surprised he promptly crashed into a goalpost. 

The second group was comprised of ten silly girls, Romilda Vane amongst them. When Harry blew his whistle, they promptly fell about giggling and clutching one another. When he told them to leave, they went to the stands to sit in a tight cluster and heckle everyone else. 

The third group had a pileup, all elbows, arses, and broomsticks, halfway through their flight around the pitch. Most of the fourth group hadn't brought broomsticks and admitted they were not confident fliers. The small fifth group turned out to be Hufflepuffs, all girls, who eyed Harry with blushing cheeks and shy smiles. 

“If there’s anyone else here who’s not from Gryffindor,” sighed Harry loudly as they gathered their dignity and marched off the pitch, “please leave now. Please! 

After a pregnant pause, a couple of little Ravenclaws who had blended with the crowd of applicants went sprinting off the pitch, chirping with boisterous humour. 

After most of the morning, many complaints and tantrums, one involving a crashed Comet Two Sixty and a warning jinx into the fray, Harry had found himself three Chasers: Katie Bell, returning to the team after a smashing trial; a new find named Demelza Robins, who wasn't particularly fast but slipped evasively through impossible gaps at full speed and seemed to have a special awareness for dodging Bludgers; and Ginny Weasley, who had not only outflown her competition but had clearly scored the most goals as well. Harry noted her for backup Seeker as well, if she had the eyes for it. Pleased though he was with his team, Harry still had choices to make.

“I don’t care if you don’t like my decisions,” Harry said to the unhappy applicants. “They flew the best, and those are the people I am going with. I’m Captain: my decisions, my team.”

There were still a few disgruntled people, but they soon fled when Harry stared them down. 

The choosing of Beaters hadn’t left people all that happy either. Several of them were angry and complained until Harry firmly shut them up with a glare that looked about ready to kill.

“That is my final decision, and if you don’t get out of the way of the Keepers, I’ll stun you and leave you in a pile,” Harry growled menacingly. 

“Harry, that’s enough,” Ginny said as she put a hand on his shoulder. “He means it, too, people! Even if you try to duel him, all of you, you would probably lose. He was equal to Professor Snape, remember?”

That had gotten the disgruntled Beater applicants to leave the pitch and join the others in the stands.

Neither of his new Beaters had the improvisational brilliance of Fred and George. However, he was still optimistic: Jimmy Peakes, a short, barrel-chested younger lad who had raised a goose egg on a Chaser's head with a ferociously hit Bludger, and Ritchie Coote, who looked a little unsteady yet flew okay and aimed very well. I can probably get him stronger by implementing physical training, Harry thought. They now joined Katie, Demelza, and Ginny on the edge of the pitch to watch their last team member’s selection. 

Harry had deliberately left Keepers’ trial until last, hoping for an emptier stadium and less pressure on all concerned. Unfortunately, however, the rejected players had been joined by several people who had come down to watch after breakfast, and the crowd was at its peak. As each Keeper flew, the crowd roared and jeered according to their own allegiances. Harry glanced at Ron, who had always had a problem with nerves. Harry had hoped that summer to look back on the win ion their final match might have softened Ron's condition, but apparently not. Ron was a familiar, delicate shade of green that made his hair and freckles even more prominent. 

None of the first applicants saved more than two goals apiece, and they returned to the stands with resignation. To Harry’s great surprise, Cormac McLaggen saved four penalties out of five. However, on the final shot, he shot off in entirely the wrong direction; the crowd jeered, and McLaggen returned to the ground in a sour temper.

Ron looked as if he'd swallowed a slug as he grimly mounted his broom. 

“Good luck!” cried an enthusiastic voice from the stands. Harry looked around, expecting to find Hermione, but it was a brightly flushed Lavender Brown.

Harry need not have worried: Ron saved one, two, three, four, five penalties in a row. Delighted and resisting joining in the crowd’s cheers with difficulty, Harry turned to McLaggen to tell him that Ron had beaten him, only to find McLaggen’s red face inches from his own. Harry stepped back warily. 

“She didn’t really try,” said McLaggen menacingly, gesturing to Ginny. There was a vein pulsing ominously in his temple like the one Harry had often seen with his Uncle Vernon. “His sister! She gave him an easy save.”

“You don't have as good an eye for the quaffle as I gave you credit for." Harry's flat voice was a clear warning, but McLaggen continued, oblivious in his pique.

“Give me another go.”

"Do you want to duel me on it?” Harry asked grimly. “You know, I have had a lot of pent up stress during these tryouts. I could really use a good duelling partner.”

McLaggen had visibly paled at that before he took a grim step forward. Harry just looked at him bemusedly. 

“No,” Harry said dismissively. “Get off of my pitch.”

He thought for a moment that the older boy might take a swing at him, but McLaggen contented himself with an ugly grimace and stomped away, muttering darkly to himself. 

Harry took a moment to collect his thoughts, looking his new team up and down. “I plan to do things differently than we have in the past. We will incorporate weight-training, running, and balance exercises in addition to flying practice.”

There were shocked looks on the players' faces.

“Running will help with stamina. I have barely missed a morning in the past couple of years. Weight-training will give the chasers more powerful shots and the beaters too, and it will also let everyone get a better understanding of their body. Balance exercises will give you better flying as you will not lose your balance even on the broom,” Harry explained. “I expect you to run for at least half an hour before breakfast every day. Don’t worry, I usually run for at least two, but I will not force you to do that. The first training will be on Thursday.”

Harry watched as the team shuffled out. He spotted Hermione having a rather annoyed look at the way Lavender was showing interest in Ron. Parvati looked grumpy about the fact that she had to be there at all. 

Harry spotted Ginny still standing next to him. 

“What?” Harry asked.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Just annoyed,” Harry said. “I really wish Snape would ask me for another duel. I need to let off some steam.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

“Congratulations, Ginny,” Susan said with a smile. “Team’s looking good, Harry.” 

“I’ll get them into shape,” Harry smiled. 

“Harry needs to let off steam,” Ginny said. “He hasn’t been able to have a proper duel since Monday.”

Susan groaned and rolled his eyes at him. 

“It’s times like these where I really miss Tonks,” Susan said. “Fine, Ginny, I need back up!”

“Thanks,” Harry had his first genuine smile on his face. “Room of Requirement? Basic DA layout.”

Susan and Ginny nodded. Harry quickly cast a couple of cleaning charms on them both. He was going to wait with his second shower until after their little duelling practice. 

An hour later, Harry looked down at Ginny and Susan in the Room of Requirement, feeling absolutely refreshed. 

“Ah, that really did it,” Harry said emphatically to himself. 

“You are an absolute monster,” Ginny said. “Fuck, we need to get Harry a new girlfriend.”

“Oi!” Harry said. 

“What?!” Ginny looked at him, fiercely. “If you had a girlfriend, you wouldn’t be so pent up. It’s not like you can’t just pick a random girl.”

Harry grumbled a bit.

“Harry,” Susan said, wiping a sweaty lock of hair out of her face. “What Ginny is trying to say is that we are worried about you and that you can talk to us.” 

“I know,” Harry grimaced. “I just don’t want to involve you any more than I already have.”

“We are already involved,” Ginny protested.

“No, you are not,” Harry said. “Ginny, I love you like a sister, but I am not losing another family member because I involve them. I have to deal with this on my own.”

Ginny wanted to say something more, but Susan put a hand on her shoulder.

“Go on, Harry,” Susan said with a weak smile. “You stink.”

Susan and Ginny watched him as he left the room, looking a little tense in his shoulders once more.

“Why did you stop me?” Ginny snarled. 

“Because Harry really thinks that way, and he is right,” Susan said directly. “We are in no shape to help him at all.” 

Ginny clenched her fist irritatedly. 

“Why?!” Ginny asked. “We were there too!” 

“We were fortunate. Hermione lost all of her memories, effectively erasing the woman Harry loved, and Sirius died,” Susan said, wiping away the frustrated tears on Ginny’s face. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but he is right. We are in no way near a level where Harry thinks we can take care of ourselves. This is not a game, people have died, and people will die.”

Ginny half-way slammed into Susan, tackling her to the floor as she cried. 

“It’s just not fair,” Ginny said. 

“I know, it’s not,” Susan said, gently stroking her back. “Look, let’s go get a shower and then let’s send a letter to Tonks. She is probably the only one who is close enough to Harry and that he thinks can defend herself.”

Ginny looked up.

“You are not trying to get them together, are you?” Ginny frowned.

“Hermione doesn’t remember Harry, and she dumped him, no matter how justified it is,” Susan said seriously. “Also, Tonks is a hundred times better for Harry than any random bimbo in this castle.”

Ginny giggled a little at that. 

“Fair point, also she likes him,” Ginny said. 

“We need to be smart about this,” Susan looked positively mischievous as she smiled at Ginny.

“Please remind me to never ever piss you off,” Ginny said with a shiver down her spine.

“Well, Sirius was my step-father,” Susan grinned. “And my Aunt is not known for her easygoing and forgiving nature, either.”

Harry felt torn between opening up to Susan and Ginny and not telling them anything. He felt the water hitting his face as he tried to relax his tense and sore muscles. 

_You could just tell them, they obviously care about you._

_(Don’t tell anyone anything. They could die if they knew too much.)_

_How would anyone know what you have told them?_

_(They wouldn’t be able to protect themselves. It would be like killing them yourself.)_

She _couldn’t protect herself._

Harry groaned as he finally shut off the water. He had missed lunch but could probably go get something from the kitchen. Harry was sure that he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. He wiped off his body and decided that his late lunch could be spent in the Astronomy tower once again. He still had homework to do after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that we didn't need to see the entire sad tale of Bob Odgen's memories- It's not Rowling's best work, and this book is too freaking long as it is. We're only 1/3 of the way through if I recall correctly, by page count. Woof!
> 
> Also, trying to add some depth to the very flat side characters. Why is almost every new supporting character so new to Harry in the OG text? McLaggen would have been in the same year as the twins, right? Gryffindor house isn't that large, but Harry acts like he's never heard of him before. The same for Susan and the new Hufflepuff students throughout...
> 
> I miss Luna and Neville. They're fun to write. I wonder what they're up to? At this point, I honestly don't remember.
> 
> Coming up:   
> A few interludes, with a nice bit of Ginny characterization and even a Ron POV section, very rare...   
> There is a Tonks-focused scene on its way as well as I recall. Thanks for staying with me.


	20. Interlude- Rumours and Romances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan and Ginny’s relationship goes slightly more public as Ginny is partially outed.
> 
> Ronald and Hermione have a tête-à-tête.

**Chapter 20 Interlude- Rumours and Romances**

In the Gryffindor common room, Ron was working his way through the reading for Slughorn’s potions class. Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas had reached their saturation point, trying to study charms. They had defaulted to highly speculative talk about witches, especially who was newly paired, newly split, and what “new talent” was available for pursuit this term. Ron tried to screen them out. Now that he finally had a potions master who didn’t loathe him for no good reason, he was determined to improve his classwork.

“So, Hermione Granger,” Seamus said, slightly too loudly, “back on the market, or still off-limits, do ye figure?”

“Well, it depends,” Dean said carefully. “Do you fancy a jealous Harry Potter looking over your shoulder every waking moment? I’d rather snog a mountain troll than have that hanging over my head.”

Ron grunted and shuffled his scrolls of notes loudly, hoping they’d take the hint. Unfortunately, the two red-blooded young wizards were just warming to their subject.

“Lovegood and Longbottom,” Dean puzzled, “how long you reckon that will last? Do two odd ducks make a pair?”

“I dunno,” Seamus replied, “but he’s not the wee round laddie he was our first year, is he? Plus, he’s pureblood, like her. Some witches fancy that, they say.”

“You know Harry’s been spending a lot of time with that cute brunette, what’s her name, the Hufflepuff, Susan Bones? Sat with her at meals and all. You suppose he’s moving on already?” Dean watched as Seamus considered this, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Could you find somewhere else to have these discussions?” Ron asked shortly. “Trying to work on my N.E.W.T. studies here. And besides, Susan and Harry are certainly not together. She’s more like his sister, now. They live together. Her aunt married his godfather.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean mused. “Still, she’s not even his step-sister. More like a cousin. I’ve read stories…”

“Kissing cousins,” Seamus chimed in, clearly enjoying the idea.

“She has a girlfriend,” Ron said, grabbing up his books to head to the library. “Said so, in potions, to Malfoy in front of several of us. Leave her alone, why don’t you?”

Seamus seemed subdued, but Dean pressed on with one more comment.

“Girlfriend? I’d pay a sickle or two to see that, eh? She’s fit, that one. Ginny’s friends with her, maybe she can clue us in on who the mystery witch is.”

Ron turned, his mouth twitching. He had been working so hard to not blurt out every thought in his head this term, but his some-time friends were pushing it.

“Leave. My. Sister. Alone.” He swept out, heading to the library to try to get in a little more actual study time before dinner.

“Who poked his pixie?” Seamus muttered, picking up his text idly.

“Alright, Quidditch girls: Cho Chang, or Katie Bell?” Dean asked, rekindling an old debate.

“Or Ginny Weasley?” Seamus asked, looking around to be sure Ron had gone. He knew Dean had a soft spot for Gryffindor girls.

“Yeah, that’s true…” Dean pondered. “Can I pick two?”

“Good luck trying, ye prat!” The two boys went on with their musings, broken up by occasional brief bouts of studying.

Ron found a quiet table in the library with just a few first-years, mostly Slytherins by their clothes, having a whispered conversation. A quick raised eyebrow, and they found somewhere else to hatch their plots or whatever it is first-year Slytherins do. Ron spread out his notes, his textbook, and some blank parchment. Just as he was getting to work, he heard a low chuckle from the next row of bookshelves over. It sounded familiar, but he did his best to ignore it.

A few minutes later, there was a giggle, followed by some whispering. Just as Ron was considering saying something, Susan Bones walked by from that direction, nodding to him as she passed.

He tried to decide if he should say hello, or nod casually, or pretend to be occupied in his reading. By the time he came to a decision, she had passed, and he realised that he had just gawped at her blankly as she passed. Not a cool move. A moment later, Ginny came by, running her fingers through her long red hair.

“Oi, Ginny,” he said quietly. She turned, saw him, and she came to a stop. Her hand dropped from her hair.

“What?”

“Nothing, just hey,” he said defensively. Being closest in age to Ginny, Ron was probably the least close to her among the Weasley boys. She and Charlie had always been close, and Bill seemed to favour her as much as he did anyone. Ron indicated the chair opposite him. “What’s up?”

She pursed her lips and then sat. He noticed that the top two buttons of her jumper were miss-buttoned. He tried a conversational approach.

“How’s it going, then?” He asked and saw her hesitate. “Your classes, I mean. Going okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “Be better when practice starts, I guess.”

“I sort of wanted to ask you,” Ron said awkwardly, “about Quidditch and other stuff. You heard about Hermione and Harry, yeah?”

She nodded and shrugged. “I expected it. I mean, five years, that was like a third of her life, and all of her time with him. Hard to put that behind you, I expect.”

“Yeah, she’s been really quiet about it.” Ron looked seriously at Ginny. “So, about Harry… and you?”

“Me?” She looked at him like he was barmy. “What about me?”

Ron was sweating and rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Well, I mean, I know you fancied him before. I just wanted to warn you. He’s going to need, you know, some time.”

She stared at him, blankly. “Me and Harry?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Well, he’s a good mate, and I know you spent all that time over at his place this summer while I was working with Hermione. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Over Harry?” Her mouth was twitching, trying to suppress something.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Ron felt this whole conversation had been a mistake. “I know you’re friendly with Susan, and she’s like his sister now, sort of.”

“ _Friendly?_ ” Ginny couldn’t help herself, and she started to laugh, doing her best to hold it in and not disturb others in the library.

“Well, I just want you to be careful,” Ron said, a little too loudly. “He’s in a weird place right now, and Susan, well, I don’t know how much you know about this sort of thing, but I’ve heard her say that she has a _girlfriend_ , and she sounded serious about it, too.”

Ginny was starting to turn purple from not breathing and had begun to sink under the library table slowly.

“Come on, this is important,” Ron said with frustration. Sobbing, choked laughter could be heard from under the table. “Fine, look out for yourself, then. See if I ever try to give you advice again.”

After a few minutes, as Ron loudly sighed from time to time and read his text, Ginny emerged from beneath the table. She wordlessly came around to Ron’s side and threw her arms around him, nearly choking him in her fierce embrace.

“What’s all that for?” He wondered aloud.

“You’re either the smartest idiot or the stupidest genius I know, Ron, honestly.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and ruffled his hair with her fingers. “I appreciate that you’re trying to look out for me.”

“Whatever,” he grunted, returning to his readings while shooting her sidelong looks as he tried to understand what was happening.

“And you needn’t worry about Harry and me,” Ginny said, gathering her bag. “Just friends, he and I. Promise.”

“Okay, if you say so,” he said, wanting to put the conversation behind him. He was sure that he was missing something, but he knew better than to pry into Ginny’s personal life. She had a vicious streak and a long memory.

The smile faded from Ginny’s face, and she got an uncertain, serious expression all of a sudden.

“Did Susan really say she has a _serious girlfriend_?” She looked nervous.

“It sounded that way. Why? Do you know something about—”

But before Ron could finish, Ginny had ducked away, and he found himself talking to the empty library. He realised it was past time to get to dinner.

He started stuffing his supplies in his bag. Missing dinner? It’s like he wasn’t even Ron Weasley any more, sometimes. He wondered if Hermione would already be there when he got there.

In the great hall, the feast was well underway as Ron scooted in. He found Hermione, Neville, and Luna Lovegood sitting together and took a seat next to Hermione, across from Luna. Harry had once again decided to eat over at the Hufflepuff table, near but not talking with Susan. Across from Susan was Ginny, who was talking about Quidditch based on how she had charmed several bread rolls to hover over the table to illustrate the opposing chasers as her hand wove in and out, apparently representing her team’s seeker.

Ginny said something, her face serious, and paused to emphasise her point when Susan snatched one of her chasers from the air over the table and dipped it in her gravy. Ginny huffed in outrage and bounced the other roll off of Susan’s forehead before grabbing it in her own hand and tearing off a ferocious bite. The two witches sat across from one another, chewing rolls. It was outwardly innocent, but something in the way they were looking at each other…

Ron found himself on his feet, hands on his hips, staring at his sister and her friend from across the room. He suddenly felt very silly and sat back down slowly.

Luna caught his eye and nodded deliberately, her large, unblinking eyes slightly mesmerising. Ron looked at Neville, who also nodded after casting a quick look at Luna. Neville at least seemed somewhat embarrassed for Ron’s sake.

“Does everyone know about this but me?” Ron whispered, catching Hermione’s attention, causing her to stare past the two witches at Harry.

“Know about what? Is it something I should have known?” Hermione was craning her neck, looking at Harry, Susan, and Ginny. She was afraid to ask too much if it was a “Harry and Hermione before” question.

“I think it’s a private thing,” Luna said in her lilting voice. “But they’ve been very happy for some time. Maybe you should talk to Ginny privately when you have a chance.”

Ron lowered his head and began eating, mechanically filling his mouth without paying any real attention to what he was doing.

 _Not Ginny, surely?_ Ron thought. _Bloody hell, what will Mum say?_

Hermione caught Ronald’s hand as they were about to enter the common room. She asked him softly, “Is there somewhere you and I could talk? Maybe away from the others?”

“Sure,” he said, thinking quickly. Not the Room of Requirement. He’d read enough between her and Harry to know that was not what they needed. He recalled a corridor in the owlery, where they should be okay if they hurried.

A few minutes later, they were overlooking the castle walls listening to owls swooping softly into the air for nightly exercise and hunting in the forests around Hogwarts.

Ron sat back to the wall, and Hermione sat next to him. For a while, there were only the sounds of the owls, and Ron tried to be patient until she finally spoke.

“I have,” she started, then hesitated a long while, “feelings? I guess? That I don’t understand, and I don’t have anyone I can talk to about them.”

 _It’s Harry,_ Ron thought. _You knew this was coming. Stiff upper lip and all that._

“That’s understandable,” Ron said. “I hope you can always talk to me, though. We’ve been good friends, I thought, since…”

“Yes,” she said quickly, looking away. “That’s part of the problem, Ronald. I sometimes feel like you’re the only person who really understands—who respects—what I’m going through. The others, even the professors, all talk about getting back on track.”

She sighed bitterly.

“On track? What does that even mean? That girl, her plans, hopes, love... Sometimes I feel like that girl died that day. I understand her a bit, but in other ways, she’s so foreign to me. Why did she fall so hard? He seems like the only thing she wanted or needed, but I never imagined any man being the focus of my whole life. I have plans, dreams, and I must have had so many more. Where did they all go?”

Ron wasn’t sure what to say, so he just listened. It was a strategy that was paying off more and more for him lately.

“There are times I look at him, and I can almost see him as she did.” She looked at Ron and blushed very slightly. “But when I close my eyes, and I try to imagine someone who’s there for me, who cares about me, who wants to protect me and help me, I don’t see him. I don’t see anyone. I feel ashamed and guilty but also free. Am I a bad person?”

Ron reached over and slowly took her hand. She startled, then relaxed.

“If you and, and Harry,” he said, forcing himself to say the name, “if you two belong together, like fate or destiny, it will happen. That’s how destiny works, right?”

“Thank you, Ronald.” She continued to look away but kept holding his hand tight. “I don’t know about fate, or destiny, or true love. I just want to be happy and be true to myself.”

“That’s fair,” Ron said. “It’s getting late, so we should get back.”

She let go of his hand and stood. For a moment, he felt sorry for himself. His feelings for her were becoming complicated, and he knew that. But he also knew that if he tried to push or pull her in one direction or another, he’d be exactly the kind of person her father had wanted him to look out for.

“Better get back before it’s late.” He shook his head. “The rumours are insane this year, I swear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Setec Astronomy." If you’re old enough, you’ll get the reference.
> 
> I admit that I wrote or rewrote a lot of the Ron scenes in this volume compared to our previous stories. I hope I am crafting a believable and sympathetic version of the character who has faults but remains worthy of inclusion as a serious character...


End file.
